


A Lesson From Bohemia

by fluffy_subtext



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:03:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_subtext/pseuds/fluffy_subtext
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>inspired from a prompt on the kink!meme : Mycroft Holmes finds himself a single father and seriously doubting his ability to be so. After all the last person he looked after hates his mere presence but he finds support from an unlikely source. M/M MH/GL</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

XXX

A Lesson From Bohemia

Chapter One

XXX

After living with Sherlock for over a year John should be used to the random quests, chases and or errands that they went on together, but this was getting a bit weird. He watched as Sherlock checked his cell for the fifth time since they had gotten to the cafe.

It was a small cafe that John honestly would have never gone to otherwise. The tea was good though so he made a mental note of the location and would maybe get a chance to try one of their scones some time. The noise from the traffic and pedestrians was a little louder than he would have liked though, definitely going inside the shop next time. Sherlock checked the time again.

"Sherlock are we meeting someone?" John finally asked getting his flatmate's attention. At first Sherlock seemed surprised that John had spoken before sighing dejectedly.

"They're late." The taller man looked at the time again, "They should have come around the corner by now … maybe I miscalculated … his legs are rather short."

"Wait … what?" John looked behind him at the corner of the building, well that explained why Sherlock made them switch seats when they got there. "Who are we meeting?"

"I wonder what is keeping them." Sherlock stood up ignoring John's question, which sadly John was very used to, and got up to follow him. Whoever they were supposed to be meeting, Sherlock was obviously put out that they were running late.

"Do they know that they were supposed to be meeting us?" It was a perfectly legitimate question when involved with Sherlock Holmes. The taller man made a bored scoff turning the corner but then stopped dead in his tracts. John paused looking up at Sherlock before looking in front of them. There seemed to have been some sort commotion up ahead. They both quickly made their way over to the commotion, John could feel the dread creeping up his bones as he heard a child crying and noticed someone was laying on the street. People were calling for help and looking between shocked and horrified.

"Move it! I'm a doctor! What happened?" He pushed his way through the crowd to the woman on the ground. She was breathing which was a good sign but looked like she was in a lot of pain. John couldn't help but feel like he had seen her somewhere before. There was a small boy sitting by her head crying and petting her hair. John was torn between trying to comfort the boy or help the mom but he knew where he could do better, he grabbed her wrist and checked her pulse.

"A car hit her and just drove away!" Some man was explaining, scratch that, teenage boy when John looked up at him. "Is she going to be okay? We called an ambulance."

"You stupid woman!" John almost jumped as Sherlock sat at the other side of the woman, he was about to yell at his flatmate before he noticed the look on his face. John could not recall a single moment where he had seen Sherlock look so devastated. He went back to checking her vitals as she let out a pained laugh at Sherlock. "You aren't allowed to die like this you know."

"Mom … " The kid sobbed ignoring Sherlock.

"Sherlock," Her voice was hoarse. "I never knew you cared."

That seemed to slip Sherlock's mask back on and John moved into her line of vision. "Do you know what has happened? Do you know where you are?"

"Oh what a treat." She smiled at John before letting out a shaky moan. It wasn't good, the car had hit her pretty hard and John realized she was bleeding from her head, he blood on her kids hands. "I get to meet the Dr. Watson in person." John stopped and looked at her. "How does it look Doctor?"

John shook his head grimly not wanting to say it out loud in front of her son, he seemed to be barely holding himself together.

"You can't die woman," Sherlock mumbled glaring at her, "You still have time to serve in several countries, let alone -"

"You've never been able to prove it." She grinned at Sherlock before sighing and looking up at her son. She made a pained expression. "Esmond."

"Mom, you're going to be okay." The boy, Esmond, sobbed continuing to pet her hair. "We're going to see Da and we're going to-"

"Hush love," The woman had tears in her eyes, "You have to be strong. Come here … " The boy leaned closer to his mother as she whispered something into his ear, he looked away wanting them to have their private moment and took a chance to look at Sherlock who was texting. John wondered idly what could be so important but instead looked around to see if he could make her any more comfortable as they waiting for the ambulance. He slid his jacket of and put if over her body. Esmond was sitting back up and staring down at his mother with tears falling freely from his face.

John found himself wishing just for a moment that he was back in Afghanistan helping wounded soldiers. This was so much worse.

"Dr. Watson." John looked down at her biting his lip nervously, he felt so useless at this moment. "Please take care of them." Her gaze went to Sherlock who was holding her hand and on the phone. Actually talking on the phone.

"I'm sorry, who?" John asked but she just smiled, "Can I get your name miss?"

"Irene." She smiled at him with a small wink, "I wish we could have me under better-" She started coughing and John grimaced as blood slipped from her lips. But then Sherlock was putting the phone to her ear and she smiled again.

Someone was talking to her as Sherlock held the phone to her ear. She smiled and nodded her head before wheezing. John didn't know what to do, part of him wanted to pull Esmond away, not let him watch his mother die. The other part of him felt guitly for wanting to take him away from their last minutes.

Where was that damned ambulance?

"I'm sorry love." Irene smiled at the phone, "I was hoping for something a little more dramatic I'll be honest. Though I have to admit Sherlock Holmes turning up has added a lit-" She coughed, "Don't go blaming yourself for this Mike, as much as you believe you can, you don't actually control the world."

John didn't hear the rest of the conversation as the ambulance pulled up. He got up to help the paramedics and explain the situation. Everything after that was a blur. He found himself sitting in the waiting room at the hospital beside Esmond who was drinking some water and wrapped up in a large orange blanket. John honestly didn't know what to say or do so he settled for staying beside the kid in case he needed someone.

Detective Inspector Lestrade was talking with Sherlock down the hall in hushed tones, obviously trying to get facts about the accident but since neither of them had witnessed it, they couldn't offer much. And Lestrade couldn't interview the kid without a parent or guardian.

"You are Dr. Watson?" John almost jumped as the kid spoke looking up at him.

"Uh, yes that's me." John smiled down at him. The kid had curly black hair a lot like his mother's had been and bright blue eyes. "Have we met before?"

"No." Esmond shook his head. "I have seen pictures of you before."

John bit his lip at that. What? "Then have you met Sherlock before?"

Esmond shook his head. "Pictures, but I think we were going to meet him soon."

"You and you're mother?" John flinched immediately after he asked. But the kid just took a drink of his water and nodded. John looked over at Lestrade and Sherlock who seemed to be arguing now, no helping those two.

"We came to England to meet with Da." Esmond looked at the ground somberly. "Am I going back home?"

"Where is home?" John smiled down at him.

"New Jersey." Esmond shrugged before thinking maybe John had never heard of New Jersey, "It's in America."

"I know this because I am his uncle!" Sherlock and Lestrade were making their way over to them now but that answer made both John and Lestrade look at Esmond.

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that." Lestrade gave Sherlock a questioning look. Sherlock huffed.

"You would be surprised to learn that my brother can, at times, tell the truth." Everyone looked over to see Mycroft, without his assistant (Anthea if John remembered her fake name correctly), and even more disturbing was the lack of an umbrella. John stared at the man surprised, Mycroft could to the normal eye look composed and put together but for some reason John felt like Mycroft looked close to falling apart.

"Da!" Esmond was out of his chair running to Mycroft. John found himself staring dumbly as Mycroft got to his knees and wrapped the smaller boy into a tight hug. He was whispering something to the boy and John looked over to see Lestrade looking just as dumbfounded as he felt. Sherlock wasn't looking at the embrace in front of them but instead glaring at the orange blanket on the floor that Esmond had dropped on his way to his father.

Mycroft Holmes was a dad.

And the mother of his child (wife? ex? lover?) had just died.

John found himself finding a chair and sitting down. What was going to happen next?

XXX


	2. Chapter 2

XXX

A Lesson From Bohemia Chapter Two

XXX

Mycroft had never been more grateful for (or to John she was called Anthea, today though she was going by Xena), while he was helping schedule the funeral for Irene she was already moving Esmond's things to England and setting up the flat appropriately. Irene Adler was an American and even though she had no family (other than her son), she had her fans from her times in the Opera, or on Broadway, even from her few movies. It was only appropriate to let her be buried in the country she called a home. Their affair had been a short one, they hadn't been married but that didn't mean the emotions weren't there.

When he had found out she was pregnant, neither of them lied to themselves thinking marriage would have been a good answer. Instead he visited his son in America every time he had a chance and on his son's first trip to England, to see his father's home, the terrible accident. Mycroft felt the knot in his throat but was able to put his emotions into check as he sat next to Esmond with the lawyers to make sure everything would be correct. He would now be the sole guardian of his son.

Irene had left almost everything to Esmond or a charity so it had been easy to get everything settled on that end. He would just have to hire people to take care of her estate until Esmond was old enough to decide if he wanted it or not. Maybe they could even go there for the summer if Esmond would like that.

Mycroft would be lying if had told anyone that he was comfortable with the whole situation. It was going to change things. But it wasn't his son living with him that was bothering him. It was his ability to be a parent that he had no faith in. Even on his visits to America Irene would tease him about his fathering skills, how was he going to be able to do this? He wondered idly if it would not be kinder to the child to send him off to boarding school or to someone who could care for him properly.

But it was Mycroft's own selfishness that he wanted to keep Esmond with him. He may not have been there for every moment but Esmond was his son. He had watched him grow up and slowly take more and more after his mother. She wouldn't have had it any other way. Mummy had never been happy with the scandal and Sherlock seemed to spend more time focusing on putting Irene in prison than anything else. Mycroft frowned slightly at the memories as the lawyers continued talking, it seemed that lawyers had that in common no matter what country they were from, they did love the sound of their own voices.

Mycroft looked down as a small hand gripped onto his. Esmond was looking up at him like he was supposed to have all the answers. And Mycroft supposed it was only fair for a son to believe that of his father, but the lump was back in his throat and he squeezed the small hand in his hoping Esmond would forgive him for his lack in this ability.

The last person he had tried to look after ended up hating his mere presence after all.

He hoped idly that Esmond would at least wait until he was eighteen to do so.

XXX

"You're supposed to hold my hand when we cross the street." Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his smiling son holding up his hand but he didn't argue and took it into his before they stepped on the street. After all the boy had a point, what kind of parent would let their seven year old child cross the street by themselves?

"Of course."

They had agreed upon a school together, one that had a decent program but Mycroft was also aware it was close to Sherlock and John's flat should a problem arise and he not be able to attend in person. He learned very quickly (or had been told rather firmly from Esmond) that the boy did not like being dropped off or picked up in cars, espcially if they did not have Mycroft himself in them.

Esmond seemed to have a certain dislike for Mrs. Jones (Elizabeth today), but would not explain to Mycroft why but he didn't see a reason to press the matter. Even if she had been rather upset by the news.

"I trust you will keep me updated on the rules of school going as they progress and change?" Mycroft smiled as Esmond laughed and nodded. Esmond seemed to think Mycroft spoke funny but he liked it.

Thought Mycroft had never been aware that his speech pattern should be considered humerous for anyone before.

"Can we have pizza tonight?" Esmond let go of his hand after they crossed the street and were in front of the school, he looked up at his dad expectantly. This kid was hell on his diet, Esmond didn't like it when they ate different meals at home.

"I will see what I can make." Mycroft nodded as his son beamed before turning to go into the school.

"Bye Da!"

"Bye." Mycroft said back even though he was sure Esmond couldn't hear him as he walked into the school. He found himself looking over at the other parents, mostly mothers, who waved to their kids and some of them were teary eyed even though this was the fourth week of school. Some of them were dressed for work while others looked like they were going to crawl right back into bed when they got home. One woman was off to see her lover. Another father saying goodbye to his daughter was in the middle of getting separated from his wife and they hadn't told their daughter yet.

Mycroft shook his head, he had work to do, now was no time to people watch. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Yes?" Mycroft gave one more glance back to the school before crossing the street and heading back to the car that had parked a block away, where his umbrella was patiently waiting.

Time for work.

XXX

John couldn't believe what was happening in front of him and at this state in his life it had to mean something.

Sherlock Holmes was sitting on his couch, silently, starting at Esmond Adler-Holmes (Esmond had wanted to take his father's name yet not get rid of his mother's) and Esmond was sitting in John's chair staring right back, just as silently. They both seemed to be studying each other intently as if daring the other to make the first move.

John set down a glass of tea and a glass of milk on the table.

"Thank you, Dr. Watson." Esmond didn't move but the thank you had John smiling as he looked over at Sherlock who had started frowning. He had tried to convince Esmond to call him John but it didn't seem like Mycroft's son would allow himself to call any adult by their first name unless there was some form of relation.

There was a knock on the door but neither of them flinched, keeping eye contact. John sighed with a smile. "Come in Lestrade."

The Detective Inspector came in, "It's really quiet is Sherlock doing something I shouldn't know abo-" Lestrade stopped when he noticed Esmond and Sherlock's staring at each other. He gave John a questioning look.

"They've been at if for a while." John admitted with a small smile motioning to go into the kitchen. He switched to a whisper, "Something came up with Mycroft, I had to pick him up from school."

"Is everything okay?" Lestrade looked worriedly over at Esmond. John smiled and shook his head.

"Who knows? But I'm sure it if was anything war-causing he would have given us a warning." He joked making a cup for the Detective Inspector. "Isn't today your day off?"

Lestrade looked slightly embarrassed as he nodded, "I'll have to admit I was hoping it would be slightly more exciting over here than it was at my flat." John laughed, it seemed that he and Lestrade were making to be pretty good friends, thought Sherlock seemed rather annoyed whenever they went to the pub together.

"Didn't your mother teach you it wasn't nice to stare?" Both men in the kitchen spit their tea out as they heard Esmond speak. They looked into the sitting room to see Sherlock looking slightly offended and a little embarrassed if the blush was anything to go by.

"You're staring too." Sherlock mumbled glaring at Esmond.

"You started it." The boy stated matter of factly before grabbing the glass of milk on the table and taking a drink. "Would you like me to show you how to make friends?"

Sherlock scoffed offended, Lestrade let out a hearty laugh and John couldn't help the giggle that left his lips. "No thank you." Esmond seemed to think about it for a bit before deciding that Sherlock was probably hopeless at this age and his help wouldn't be very good. Sherlock glared at him.

"Brat."

"Sherlock!" John looked at the other man surprised.

"Diva." Esmond responded. Sherlock glared. John and Lestrade both snickered.

"Half-wit"

"Stink-face"

"Spawn of hell."

"Are you always this dumb or is today a special occasion?"

"Alright thats enough out of the both of you!" Both of them were suddenly surprised by Lestrade whacking both of them on the back of the head. "If you can't say anything nice then don't say anything at all." The Detective Inspector put his hands on his hips and glared at both of them before pointing at Sherlock. "You're an adult, or so you keep telling me, act like it." He looked at Esmond who was staring up at him with wide-eyes. "Don't let him bate you into things and I hope you know better than to act like this in school."

John was impressed that both of them looked rather sheepish and embarrassed.

"Sorry Detective Inspector." Esmond was looking up at Lestrade still slightly wide-eyed as if he coulnd't believe the man actually whacked him upside the head.

"That's child-abuse you know." Sherlock mumbled glaring at Lestrade, who suddenly looked slightly embarrassed for whacking Esmond.

"I think he needs another whack." John laughed as Sherlock glared at him.

"You can call me Greg you know." Lestrade settled for ignoring the now bickering Sherlock and John. "And you know, sorry for whacking you on the head, I shouldn't have done that, you're not my kid."

"My mom used to do that to me." Esmond admitted a little embarrassed. Lestrade smiled and ruffled the kid's hair earning a laugh. The boy was only seven years old and had already been through so much.

"I still shouldn't have done that, forgive me?" Esmond nodded with a small laugh before looking over at the fire place. Lestrade followed the boy's gaze to the mantel where there was a picture of Irene Adler sitting and next to it was a rather extravagant necklace. Lestrade bit his lip. This boy was her and Mycroft Holmes' son.

Mycroft, Lestrade would be lying if he said that man hadn't made an impression on him when they first met. He spotted the man every now and again but they only really talked if Mycroft needed something or if it was about Sherlock. There was something different about the taller man that Lestrade couldn't figure out, he found himself wondering if they could ever be friends.

"You should just arrest him now Lestrade, taking both of his parents into consideration that boy will turn into a fine criminal." Sherlock was suddenly talking to them and Lestrade jumped glaring at Sherlock. This really wasn't appropriate stuff to be saying in front of Esmond, he was pretty sure.

"Like you would be able to prove any of it." Esmond laughed and Lestrade wondered if the kid thought Sherlock was joking. He looked over at Sherlock who looked at his feathers had just been ruffled. Who knew a seven year old would be able to have such a reaction to the Consulting Detective.

Sherlock sighed dejectedly before flopping on the couch (more graciously than should have been allowed) and stretched out. "I guess I will have to take him under my wing, he does have some Holmes genes in them, even if they are of lesser value than my own. I will have to teach him to observe before he decides to persue the life of crime."

Lestrade suddenly got the feeling that Sherlock could make a very interesting Uncle. John walked over to the couch and moved Sherlock's legs so he could sit down. Esmond was smiling over at Sherlock almost like he was a new toy to play with.

"You will do no such thing." John sighed taking a drink of the tea he had given to Sherlock earlier, if the man wasn't going to drink it than he would. "Normal kids want to go out and play and have friends. Besides, " Sherlock had scoffed at the word 'normal', "I don't think Mycroft would enjoy you treating his son like an experiment."

"I can observe." Esmond frowned at both men on the couch, "I play the game with Da whenever we are bored."

Lestrade rolled his eyes, only a Holme's would make that into a game.

"Really?" Sherlock looked interested and Esmond grinned.

"Lets see … " The boy looked around the room before looking at Lestrade. "Detective Inspector Lestrade is off duty today."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and flopped back. Lestrade couldn't help but grin back at Esmond. "Hopeless, maybe a life of crime is the only path you have." Sherlock drawled.

Esmond glared a him. "I can observe that you're a prat."

Lestrade and John both choked trying not to laugh, even Sherlock's lips twitched a bit but everyone turned as someone coughed at the door. Lestrade flushed slightly at the appearance of Mycroft Holmes leaning against the doorframe, three piece suit on, umbrella in hand and smirking over the room in general.

"Language you learned from your mother no doubt." His low voice demanded the usual respect and Lestrade found himself standing taller.

"She said it a lot." Esmond admitted blushing slightly but getting out of the chair at the arrival of his father. "Da are you a bad guy?"

Mycroft glared slightly at Sherlock before meeting his son's eyes. Lestrade smirked when he heard John smack the Consulting Detective.

"Of course not." Mycroft smiled slightly. "If I was I am sure that the Detective Inspector, on duty or not, (Lestrade wondered how long Mycroft had been there) would have to arrest me on principle." Mycroft nodded over at Lestrade and Esmond looked up at his expectantly.

"Of course I would, if your Dad was a criminal." Lestrade quickly answered with a laugh. "Ignore Sherlock, he's an idiot." Lestrade shot a glance at Mycroft who was watching him, he flushed and looked over at John who had laughed at the 'idiot' comment.

"And a prat." Mycroft smirked glancing at his brother before getting on his knees and fixing the collar of Esmond's shirt. The boy giggled.

"It sounds funny coming from you Da." Esmond giggled again. Lestrade bit his lip wanting to tell the boy that it sounded a little bit funnier coming from a seven year old with an american accent. "Can we go home now?" Mycroft frowned slightly before nodding his head and motioning at the room.

"Say good bye to everyone."

"Good bye Uncle Sherlock, Doctor Watson … " Esmond looked up at Lestrade and bit his lip with a grin "Good bye Mr. Greg." He giggled as if he just got away with doing something bad and looked up at his father. Mycroft raised an eyebrow but nodded his head at the door motioning for Esmond to go ahead. He looked back at the men in the room before settling on John.

"Thank you for picking him up, I hope it wasn't too much trouble?"

"Of course not and it wasn't a problem." John smiled ignoring Sherlock's groan. "Seriously, any time you need us to. He's a good kid Mycroft."

"Thank you Doctor, see you soon Sherlock," Mycroft looked over at Lestrade and nodded, "Detective Inspector."

Lestrade nodded back, his mouth suddenly dry as he watched the man leave and close the door behind him. He took a breath and sat down in the chair the boy had taken not a moment before. John was picking up cups from the table and heading to the kitchen. Lestrade looked over at Sherlock who was watching him, eyes narrowed.

"What?" Lestrade asked glaring back.

"Nothing." Sherlock gave Lestrade the once over before sitting up in what Lestrade was starting to think of as his thinking pose. "Nothing."

"You should probably refrain from the criminal talk around Esmond, Sherlock." Lestrade looked up as John spoke and sat down next to his flatmate. "He probably doesn't know anything about that stuff and I'm sure Mycroft would like him to stay that way." John was obviously annoyed. Sherlock looked at him raising an eyebrow.

"So you're not joking about it then?" Lestrade leaned back, he had never worked in a case that involved a Irene Adler but then again, who knew what Mycroft could cover for his … late wife? Lover? Lestrade wondered what kind of turmoil the man might be going through, he bit his lip.

"Of course not!" Sherlock stood up walking over to the fire place staring at the picture on the mantle before grabbing the necklace and tossing at Lestrade. "The Maharaja's missing jewel."

Lestrade almost dropped the necklace in surprise, it was an amazing piece of jewelry. "Wh-what are you doing with it?" He would forever deny the squeak that came out of his mouth.

"She left it to me." Sherlock was looking at the picture again so Lestrade couldn't quite see his face but the tone reminded Lestrade of how human the Consulting Detective was. "She was the most brilliant woman I have ever met … "

"Out smarted him on several occasions from what I've gathered." John teased smirking over at Sherlock.

"I could never link her directly to anything but I knew." Sherlock's tone was full of affection. "Her only flaw was getting with Mycroft." With the last part he huffed, grabbed the necklace from Lestrade and put it back on the mantle and flopped back down on the couch.

"You liked her then?" Lestrade couldn't help but ask.

Sherlock scoffed.

"Like has nothing to do with it. I don't like being outwitted." He rolled his eyes. "You know I don't care for … things .. like that."

"Anyways," John suddenly piped in sounding slightly agitated, Sherlock smirked. Lestrade was lost. "I didn't realize you were so good with kids Lestrade."

"Of course he's good with kids, Gabrie-" Sherlock stopped and Lestrade froze and closed his eyes. It was silent for a few moments. He looked up to see Sherlock looking at the ground. John was giving Sherlock a questioning glance.

"It's okay." Lestrade took a deep breath. It had been six years after all. "It's fine Sherlock."

"I'm sorry." Sherlock mumbled and it seemed just like that Lestrade was reminded of the man six years ago, addicted, too young and completely helpless. Helping him solve a case before he even thought to call himself a Consulting Detective.

And really it was fine. It had been six years. Even if Sherlock and Lestrade had come to some sort of silent agreement to never talk about it that didn't mean it had never happened. Lestrade had already seen therapists and gotten on with life hadn't he?

"Heh," He let out a small laugh shaking his head before settling to stare at his hands. "It doesn't get any easier does it?" He looked up at John knowing the man had no idea what was going on. "I guess I should start from the beginning yeah? I don't know if you knew this but I was married a while back. Tobi Gregson, she was my CO when I joined the force and well, love at first sight." He grinned rubbing his hands together thinking about it. "If you could call it that, more like she saw me as competition and well I couldn't tell you when it all started but that was just us."

"Well we got married and it was good. Too good. And then we had a baby girl, Gabrielle, and it was even better." Lestrade had to pause as the memories came rushing back. It wasn't that he forgot, no he could never forget. It was just hard remembering it was something he would never have again.

"They were killed by druggie trying to mug them. He was too far gone and must have freaked out when he saw her badge." Lestrade's throat felt tight. "She was seven." The same age as Esmond.

"That was the first time we met." Sherlock continued for Lestrade and he was thankful. "First time I helped the police anyway. Helped them find the junkie." He paused for a second. "Get a junkie to help you find a junkie, brilliant actually."

Lestrade smirked. "I stole that from her, not that I was really allowed to work on the case but I still helped when I could. We found him." Lestrade added at John's sombre expression. "He's still serving time." They sat there in silence for a moment.

"That-I … I never … Lestrade thats … " John ran a hand through his hair.

"I thought Doctor's were supposed to be good with this sort of thing." Sherlock teased with his lips twitching slightly. Lestrade couldn't help the bark of a laugh that he gave out. That seemed to cause John to relax enough to let out a small giggle.

It really wasn't appropriate.

But Lestrade wouldn't want it any other way.

XXX


	3. Chapter 3

XXX

A Lesson From Bohemia

Chapter 03

XXX

Mycroft sighed as he took another drink of tea, he had taken coffee off of his diet and was now regretting it, it was one in the morning and he still had work to do. It would have been easier if he was at the office with all of his resources but with Esmond, he had to make changes. What was his office was now Esmond's room and Mycroft had moved his office into his room. He wondered idly about getting a new place but this location was great for work and just close enough to Esmond's school.

He had never really used the apartment before Esmond. Not as a home anyway. He used it as a place for sleep and to eat but otherwise never had time to … 'hang out' as it were, or at lease he never scheduled time. He preferred working in his office too. He had no use for a tv, sofa, or anything customary for a home. Yet now he had them and Mycroft couldn't deny the place felt more … comfortable.

It was strange knowing that he was sharing the apartment now. If he looked into the living room he was sure that he would see books from Esmond's lessons sitting on the coffee table, the boys backpack on the couch and his jacket too. Esmond had already finished his lessons for the first quarter yet his son continued to do the homework, as if he didn't want Mycroft to notice. He had also been trying to hide the facts he was having head aches. And even the other day when Mycroft had been playing "Observe" (he started doing it with Esmond when he realized the boy might be more like him and his brother) Esmond would take everything in around him but pretend he hadn't noticed anything. And he was good at pretending. If Mycroft wasn't any the wiser he would assume his son was like any other child.

But he wasn't?

So why had Esmond been playing dumb when he was with Sherlock earlier? Mycroft couldn't think of a good reason. Maybe Esmond was uncomfortable with doing it around people he barely knew? When Mycroft was a boy he found it frustrating that the adults he was supposed to look up to couldn't see or understand what he did, but he was smart enought to keep that frustration to himself unlike Sherlock.

Mycroft wondered idly if Esmond had been bullied at his old school. Had something had happened since the last time he had seen his son … Irene hadn't told him anything. Yet he had seen it with his own eyes. He would have to make a point to show Esmond how to handle his eidetic memory, but maybe he should wait until his son came to him first. Mycroft knew that even the smallest circumstances could change someone's life so drastically and here he was, everything changing around him. It wasn't a bad change, it was … Mycroft rarely in his life felt like it was out of his control.

The first memorable time had been when Mummy told him he was getting a little brother, the next was when said little brother developed his addiction to drugs and worse things. Mycroft wondered if Sherlock ever fully understood the power he had over his older brother, the pool incident had been yet another moment where Mycroft thought he would never see his brother again. Moriarty was still out there too.

He ran a hand through his hair, he wasn't going to get anything done tonight. He put the papers inside the desk and locked the drawer. He surprisingly hadn't felt this hopeless when Irene had told him she was pregnant. In fact, he would have to admit he was glad his rendezvous with the woman had ended in such a way. He had been worried she wouldn't want him around since they weren't going to get married (also her idea). He knew this was most likely going to be the only chance he had at a family, his and Irene's relationship had been a short courting of more primal tendencies, so he was thankful when she allowed him to stay involved in Esmond's life.

When he had gotten that phone call about her accident he had been in another country (location to remain private) and left as soon as he could. It was only by luck, he felt, that Sherlock and John had been wanting to intercept Irene and therefore was available to Esmond after his mother had passed.

Mycroft regretted not letting Esmond meet his family for so long but he had his reasons. Mummy had not approved of the ordeal at all and wished Mycroft would stop spending so much time in America to visit Esmond, if Irene didn't want to marry it him the boy was no longer his responsibility. She had her reasons for believing that way, Mycroft could understand where she was coming from and he hated to admit it was her passing after last Christmas that had got him into asking Irene to bring Esmond here. She had to travel discreetly and Mycroft had provided the best he could.

He wondered idly if she regretted the way she died. She had told him that she wanted to die extravagant and beautifully, instead she had been hit by a car with barely enough time to push Esmond out of the way. He was glad she was able to come back to England, though not her home she said she always felt something was there for her. He wouldn't fool himself into believing it had anything to do with him.

Now Esmond, poor Esmond, was left with Mycroft to look after him. His safety wouldn't be an issue, his son would be watched at all times but he didn't want Esmond to catch on (after he hadn't like Mrs. Jones) but the men watching after Esmond were the best. If any of Mycroft's (many) enemies or even Sherlock's (even more) were to go after him, he would be protected. Mycroft took a deep breath before he heard soft foot steps in the living room.

"Esmond?" Mycroft got up and opened his door to see his son looking up at him worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep." The boy mumbled obviously tired, "There's a monster in my room."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, "A monster?" He stood there awkwardly looking down at the seven year old who was looking up at him for help. "There's no such thing as monsters." Well that wasn't really true but he was pretty sure his definition and Esmond's weren't even close.

"Yes there is." The boy wasn't meeting Mycroft's eyes. Ashamed? Embarrassed? "Will you make it go away?" The quiver in Esmond's voice has Mycroft's chest tightening, the small american accented voice of his son should never sound like that. It brought back memories of Irene's funeral and having to explain to Esmond that his mother wasn't going to be coming back.

"Of course." Mycroft nodded and let Esmond grab his hand and drag him to his room. His heart beat nervously, how was he supposed to get rid of a monster that didn't exist? Would he do it alright? Honestly he didn't remember having this fear of imaginary creatures as a child, it was probably his mother from whom he got his overactive imagination. But surely Esmond had been able to tell what he had seen wasn't real?

They made it to the door and Esmond quickly moved to hide behind his father. "Be careful I think its bigger than you Da."

Mycroft had chosen Da for his son to call him because the American 'dad' or 'pop' honestly made his tongue click and well, father was what he called his father and therefore, Mycroft wanted none of it.

Mycroft carefully opened the door wondering if he was supposed to put on some sort of show for his son. Irene certainly would have but the dramatics were for people like her and Sherlock. Esmond seemed to be too nervous to really warrant a show anyway. Mycroft looked around the room. It was exactly how he would imagine a normal child's room to look. Crowded by toys yet organized in its chaos. Apparently Esmond had played a game of soldier before going to bed.

He remembered Irene telling him about the games some of her friends had showed Esmond how to play.

"Where was it?" Mycroft whispered, hoping Esmond would think he was taking him seriously and not wanting to scare the monster away. Mycroft suddenly worried if he should have brought his umbrella, Esmond probably would have laughed at that.

"It came in through the window." Esmond was still holding onto his leg from behind but pointed at the open window. Mycroft blanched.

"Why is your window open?" He asked wondering now if some disease ridden animal had come into his son's room. Note to self: get someone to bolt the window closed while at school and work tomorrow.

"I wanted to try and catch a bird." Esmond mumbled and Mycroft made a note to go over rules for the apartment after he chased the 'monster' away. "I forgot to close it and then the monster came in."

Mycroft did note rather pridefully that for a seven year old, Esmond held himself together pretty well. It could be a cat, from the lack of a track its made in the room its either domesticated or maybe … there was a low growl from underneath the bed.

"Its there!" Esmond grabbed Mycroft's leg tightly.

Mycroft quickly turned and picked Esmond up walking out of the room and closing the door. He took a breath before looking down at his son who was looking up at him wide-eyed. Mycroft bristled slightly being caught in the act of retreating but he wasn't about to take on a "monster" without a weapon.

"Did you see it?" Esmond started wiggling in his hold so Mycroft moved him to one arm carrying Esmond around the waist and pulling his phone out and pressing the speed dial.

"Need an extraction of a … " Mycroft coughed slightly glancing down at his son, "monster in my son's bedroom." Esmond's eyes widened as he hung up the phone.

"Wow! Is the monster going away?" Esmond had given up on squirming out of Mycroft's grasp when he realized they were moving to his father's room.

"It will be dealt with," Mycroft paused thinking of his words. "Yes. The monster will be gone. Do you mind sleeping in here tonight?"

"Are you going to stay with me?" Esmond laughed as Mycroft put him on the bed. "You have a big bed Da!" Mycroft paused thinking as Esmond stood on the bed trying to taller. A father would share a bed with his son, he nodded.

"Yes, I need to change into pajamas." Mycroft smiled slightly as Esmond fell back on his bed and started wrapping himself up in the sheets. He couldn't recall such a satisfying sight. He moved to the bathroom and quickly changed listening to Esmond talk about what he thought the monster might be. A baby dragon or a cat with nine tails or even a giant lizard robot that could change its size by remote.

Mycroft wondered what kind of t.v. the kid had been watching lately.

"Are you ready to go to sleep? We both have school and work tomorrow." Mycroft pulled at the duvet as he crawled onto the bed. Esmond pouted when he mentioned school. "Do you not like school?"

"It's okay." Esmond shrugged moving closer and resting his head on his father's arm. "The kid's all think I talk funny but they are all cool. I kinda miss my friends though."

Mycroft winced running his hand through Esmond's hair. He knew it was going to be tough. "I like your accent." He smirked as Esmond looked up at him.

"All of you are the ones with the accent Da." Esmond squirmed before yawning. "Theres a cute girl in my class … Maggie … "

Mycroft raised an eyebrow before reaching over and turning of the lamp beside the bed and hesitantly moved his arm to rub circles on his son's back. "Maggie?"

"She has red hair," Esmond yawned again and snuggled closer to Mycroft. "And she likes Dinosaurs and … space …"

Mycroft kept rubbing the circles on Esmond's back until he was sure the boy was sleeping. He smiled down at him and realized that this was the most relaxed he felt in a long time. For the first time in years he wasn't aware of what time it was when he fell asleep.

XXX

Lestrade took a few deep breaths stretching out his arms in the park. Exercising in the mornings was new to his schedule and even if he couldn't keep up with it all the time it did feel great. And the health thing was an added bonus. But hey, if he was quitting smoking he might as well go all the way right?

He stretched his legs. He jogged to the park and then would turn around and go back to his flat, or if he was running late he would just jog to Scotland Yard instead. It was about the same distance either way. It took him a second to realize his phone was vibrating in his pocket.

"Lestrade." He hoped he didn't sound as wheezy as he thought he did.

"Sir you need to come in." It was Sally and it didn't sound good. He took a deep breath.

"Alright I'll be there in a bit and please forgive me if I'm a little sweaty." He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket before he started jogging to Scotland Yard and he hoped he could get a shower in before everything went to hell ... Or at least a cuppa. He wondered idly if he had washed his extra clothes in the office recently.

By the time he got to the office he was sweaty, his legs felt like jelly and he wondered idly if he really got here faster with a run or if he could have just jogged. He was thankful it was September but today seemed to be warm for the season. He went into the building ignoring the raised eyebrows and stares.

"Sir, the boy that was reported missing last night," Sally, bless her, didn't even bat an eye at his unprofessional state as he walked to his office. "Steven Evans was found this morning, he's been killed."

Lestrade glanced up at her grim look before pulling his overnight bag out of his desk. "You drive I'm going to need to change in the back."

She nodded. "The rest of the team is on their way."

XXX

Steven Evans was seven years old. Lestrade took a deep breath as he looked at the boy's prone body on the ground in the alley. He ran a hand through his hair, nothing would prepare anyone for this. No one should get used to this. There was a hand touching his shoulder he looked over at Sally who just looked sad. The entire team was sombre.

He took another breath and steeped over to Anderson who was checking the body. He could do this. This was his job. "What have you got Anderson?" Lestrade watched sympathetically as the man composed himself. Kids were never easy. They should never be easy.

"Strangled sir."

And there beside the body in the boy's blood was written,

"London Bridge is broken down,  
Falling down, falling down.  
London Bridge is falling down,  
My fair lady."

He grabbed his cell.

The rest of the day was a blur. From talking to the grieving parents to putting the force on alert around the London bridge along with all the other bridges too just in case, all the while trying to decide if it was a real threat or not. He drank another cup of coffee.

It was going to be a long hard day and he still hadn't had a bloody shower. And to top everything off everytime he closed his eyes he saw Steven Evans laying on the ground with a bruised neck or Gabrielle with a bullet through her heart, just lying there and Lestrade would find himself sitting up straighter and willing himself not to blink.

He was going to need a drink tonight.

Health be damned.

XXX

"Now pour it … gently."

Esmond glared up at his uncle as he poured the red liquid from the tube to the beaker with the purple liquid. Uncle Sherlock was watching him closer than Esmond would have liked, it was a lot like when Da knew he was lying. Unlce Sherlock must of thought he was either stupid or accident proned, neither Esmond liked but it meant he was doing a good job.

Nobody liked kids like him. He shook the thoughts out of his head, he couldn't think about that right now.

Dr. Watson was making tea behind Uncle Sherlock. They had obviously been fighting from the strange feeling in the room. It was heavy like when something was wrong but none of the grown ups wanted to tell you why. It was annoying, he wanted to ask what it had been about because he couldn't tell. The apartment (flat he reminded himself) looked the same as it had before, there was nothing broken and if anything Uncle Sherlock was being slightly nicer than last time.

Still Dr. Watson wouldn't get near Uncle Sherlock unless he needed to.

"Pay attention Esmond." Esmond sighed and and gently grabbed the next tube. He was paying attention. Always. It would be easier to focus on this experiment if Uncle Sherlock went faster. He kept his mouth closed. No he was a normal kid, Uncle Sherlock was taking him at a pace for normal children.

"Yes sir."

"Sherlock do you really think this is what he wants to do?" John sighed handing Sherlock a cup of tea before putting one down next to Esmond.

"If he wants a chance to be my future Nemesis then he must catch up on the sciences John." Sherlock waved at John with his hand still watching Esmond mix the chemicals but at the frown John gave him he rolled his eyes. "Are you having fun Esmond?"

Esmond shrugged. "It's alright." There were plenty more boring things he could be doing … like his homework. Which he had already finished, and he was getting tired of reworking the problems so they wouldn't figure it out. "Can we make something explode?"

Sherlock grinned. "Of course!"

"Now nothing too dangerous Sherlock. He's just a kid." John yelled from the living room. Esmond hated how Dr. Watson talked about him like he wasn't there or paying attention. Dr. Watson treated him like a baby too. Esmond wondered idly if he would be seeing Mr. Greg today since he was at Uncle Sherlock's flat. There was the sound of a door closing and foot steps but Sherlock didn't seem to notice.

"Please can it be big." Esmond looked up at his Uncle with his best 'please' face. "and messy?"

"I'm starting to like the way you think future enemy of mine." Sherlock winked before moving around the same side of the table as Esmond and started moving things around. Esmond let out a small laugh of excitement. He found visiting Uncle Sherlock weird sometimes but the tall man could be a lot of fun. When he wasn't being a prat of course.

Esmond had wondered if Uncle Sherlock and Dr. Watson were like some of his Mom's friends the Petersons. They were a nice couple of guys and Esmond found himself missing them slightly. But the Petersons likes to kiss and hug and he hadn't seen Uncle Sherlock or Dr. Watson do that.

"Why are we going to be enemies?" Esmond asked smiling as Uncle Sherlock organized the beakers in a very interesting order of colors. He must have asked a strange question because Uncle Sherlock paused. "Are you going to be a bad guy?"

The older man snorted. "Boring."

Esmond didn't understand how being bad could be boring, after all, why would any one do it if it was? But maybe Uncle Sherlock thought being bad as boring so he wouldn't be a bad guy after all.

"Good. And I'm a good guy." Esmond looked up at his Uncle. "So then we won't be enemies. We'll both be good guys."

Sherlock looked back down at Esmond and felt his lips twitch. "I already have a side-kick."

"I wouldn't want to be your side-kick anyway!" Esmond laughed at the stupid idea. Really it was. "I am going to be a hero all by myself!"

"You might find that being alone isn't all that fun." Sherlock mumbled above his head before speaking normally, "Now how big of a mess do you want to make?"

"A really big one!" Esmond grinned but then there was a knock at the door. Sherlock sighed.

"John can you get that?"

There was an answer of silence. Esmond thought for a second, "I think I heard him go upstairs a moment ago."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow looking down at Esmond before getting up to answer the door when the person knocked again. "Come in already!"

The door opened and Esmond stayed sitting in the chair by the table. He looked at the order Uncle Sherlock had organized his chemicals.

"Hey is John here?" It was Mr. Greg. Esmond wiggled slightly in his spot. He liked Mr. Greg, he reminded him a little of his mom. Except Mr. Greg didn't smile as much … or cause scenes … or dress as nice …

"He's upstairs." Lestrade nodded at Sherlock expecting the man to let him into the flat but Sherlock was looking down on him warily. Lestrade sighed.

"I don't want to talk about it." He didn't really think Sherlock would take that as an answer when it came to a case but Sherlock nodded before backing off. Lestrade realized idly that Sherlock had always seemed a little more sensitive when it came to Lestrade and cases with children. He sighed. "There's been another one. A girl, seven years old."

Sherlock stopped and looked at Lestrade. "Another message?"

"Build it up with wood and clay, wood and clay, wood and clay, build it up with wood and clay, my fair lady." Lestrade ended it bitterly to the tune of the song. "The Super's got us with extra watch on the bridges and he still doesn't want it getting public."

It would be chaos if the population of London thought their bridges were going to be bombed. "He doesn't want to chance that the threat is only to the London Bridge and not just a bridge of London."

"Smart." Sherlock nodded approvingly. Lestrade tried to keep the smile to himself, it had been his idea really but the Superintendent had agreed. The door upstairs opened and John came down the stairs, when he noticed Lestrade he smiled but when he looked at Sherlock he frowned.

"Sherlock who's watchin-"

The sound of breaking glass and a scream made all three men jump. Lestrade even reached for his gun before remembering he had left it at home. They ran into the kitchen and Esmond was trying to wipe his hands on his shirt while crying. There were broken beakers and tubes on the table and suddenly some of the chemicals caught flames.

"Shit!" John ran in and grabbed Esmond as the boy wailed. "Do something about this!" And with that he ran into Sherlock's room where Lestrade assumed there would be first aid for chemical burns.

Lestrade turned on the sink looking for a bowl or bucket or anything before he realized Sherlock was standing there looking at the mess. "Sherlock!" The other man jumped and looked at Lestrade surprised. "Can I throw water on this?" He honestly didn't know anything about chemical fires or anything of the sort.

"Better idea." Sherlock reached into one of the cubbards and pulled out a fire extinguisher quickly putting out the flames. Lestrade noticed that he looked shaken up from the whole ordeal as they looked onto what he was sure was a ruined experiment.

"You okay mate?" Lestrade asked a little hesitantly. He never really like calling Sherlock out when he was appearing emotional but he had to ask.

"I shouldn't have left him alone." Sherlock sounded dejected before straightening himself up and walking into his room. Lestrade quickly followed but had to stop quickly to keep from bumping into the other man. He peeked over Sherlock's shoulder to see John wrapping up one of Esmond's hands as the boy sniffled, his shirt had been taken off probably doused in whatever he had been messing with. His other hand was already wrapped and John was talking to him in a low tone.

"Now you know better than to mess with your Uncle Sherlock's experiments without some supervision yeah?" Esmond nodded. "You're going to be fine, its just a light burn but they aren't going to feel good so try not to mess with them. You're doing really well! If you were in my office at work I would give you two lollies." John laughed sympathetically messing the boy's hair when he finished wrapping his other hand.

Esmond mumbled something.

"Sorry what was that?" John asked both of them seemed not to have noticed their audience yet.

"My mom would kiss it to make it feel better." Esmond mumbled a little louder blushing slightly. "But you do-" but before he could protest John placed two gentle kisses on each of his hands and then one more on the kid's forehead before ruffling his hair again.

"Is that better?"

"Should be, I hear Doctor kisses have extra healing ability." Sherlock's amused voice broke the moment up. John flushed embarrassed before giving Sherlock a stern look. He was obviously holding back from giving the other man a good talking to with Esmond still there.

"Do they really?" Esmond asked skeptically looking at John and then his hands.

"It's a fact but kisses from family or people you love are a lot better." John stood up giving Esmond a once over making sure he got everything. "Let's see if I can find you a jumper."

As he passed by Lestrade noticed Sherlock stiffen slightly but then Esmond was looking up at Sherlock expectantly. "Will you kiss them too?"

This seemed to surprise Sherlock slightly and Lestrade couldn't help but smiled as the man gently kissed Esmond exactly where John had. Esmond seemed pleased after this and smiled glancing at Lestrade. He smiled back. "Are you okay?"

"You shouldn't have touched anything without me there." Sherlock interrupted scolding Esmond but Lestrade could tell he didn't have much force behind it. Esmond looked down to the floor.

"I'm sorry." Esmond shifted tears appearing in his eyes again. Lestrade felt a tug in his chest.

"I'm sorry too." Sherlock nodded at Esmond before standing up. "Do you want to watch … telly?" Esmond shook his head as they walked out of Sherlock's room. "Do you have a book to read while we wait for Mycroft?" Esmond shook his head again.

Lestrade slightly enjoyed watching Sherlock try to think of a way to entertain a kid in the least painful way possible. "Do you know how to play the piano?" Esmond looked up at his uncle expectantly. Sherlock smirked.

"I play the violin, its more of an intricate instrument than the piano." Sherlock said pompously as he walked over to his violin and got it out of its case. "Do you have a favorite artist?"

"I don't know." Esmond shrugged as John walked back in with a jumper. It was obviously too small for John but still way to big for Esmond.

"Where on earth is that from?" Lestrade couldn't help but ask as he sat down on the couch with a smile.

"I accidentaly shrunk it in the wash but haven't had the heart to toss it." John admitted as he helped Esmond put it on. It was bright blue. "Got it from Harry."

"It's very nice." Esmond said politely as the sweater engulfed him. "Thank you for letting me borrow it."

"No problem, now where do you want to sit and I'll get you some milk." John ruffled his hair again. Esmond looked around before crawling on the couch beside Lestrade and smiling. He smiled back.

"I don't think I've been on the receiving end of a concert by the Great Sherlock Holmes before." Lestrade grinned over at Sherlock who rolled his eyes.

"Weren't you going to the pub with John for another one of your dates?" Lestrade raised an eyebrow at the amount of disdain put into the word date. What's this? He settled for not saying anything since John didn't either as Sherlock started playing. Esmond watched his uncle excitedly.

Lestrade sighed and closed his eyes and for the first time that day, he didn't see a dead child staring blankly back at him.

XXX

When Mycroft arrived at 221 Baker street he was exhausted. Even with the incidents he was trying to keep an eye on overseas, with the recent threats on the bridges of London his office had been in chaos. Well as much chaos as he would allow them to get into.

Really it was much easier with order.

He had been regretful it was going to be a long day and he found himself thankful for Sherlock as well as John looking after his son. As he made his way upstairs he was aware of two things, one Tchaikovsky's Overture 1812 was playing, two it was almost playing loud enough to block out the two voices arguing. The voices belonged to Sherlock and John.

Mycroft frowned. He had thought they had been getting along well enough as of late. In fact he was pretty sure that their relationship would soon be changing into a totally different kind. He smirked thinking about it, hopefully Sherlock wouldn't chase John away. But the arguing had still unsettled him, what was Esmond doing?

He found the answer to that as soon as he opened the door. There on the couch was Detective Inspector Lestrade sleeping peacefully even if his position on the couch looked slightly uncomfortable. And curled up against the older man's side was Esmond wrapped in a blue jumper. Mycroft noted the bandaged hands with a frown but still, the site of Esmond and the Detective looking so … at peace made something stir in Mycroft's chest that he hadn't felt in a long time.

He took a second to compose himself when he realized he was staring and walked over to the kitchen. There had obviously been a fire, chemicals were involved from the smell. Mycroft looked around, Sherlock had left Esmond unattended with an experiment. His hand tightened on the umbrella.

Sherlock was standing with his back towards Mycroft, slouching forward as John whispered angrily at him. Now that he was in the room where the music was playing he couldn't hear what they were saying but he figured John was lecturing Sherlock on the events of tonight. Mycroft was slightly surprised that Sherlock didn't seem to be putting a word in, that was until his younger brother suddenly grabbed John's face and kissed him hard.

Mycroft blinked before turning around and letting them have this moment. He obviously missed something important in the development of their relationship for him to have not seen that coming. He looked back at the sleeping Lestrade and his son. Esmond didn't seem to be in any pain so Mycroft let his eyes wonder to the silver haired man.

Lestrade looked exhausted even in his sleep. Mycroft wondered if the two recent cases the man was on were taking a harder toll than his usual cases, considering his history. The older Holme's didn't pry as far into the Detective's life as he had done with John. Obviously Lestrade was a man of the law so when his brother had gotten involved with him Mycroft has saw a little hope.

In fact Mycroft was sure he could thank Lestrade for his younger brother's coming clean. He didn't like thinking about how things had been but Mycroft found himself very thankful for Lestrade coming into Sherlock's life and in a way his own. When he had learned about the man's wife and child, the tragedy that it had been … and still was, he had wondered why such horrible things happened to good people.

He couldn't help but feel that again as he looked at the man, he was surprised Lestrade was still taking the cases or even that the man was so willing to look after Esmond. After all Mycroft had done very little to make Lestrade's life easier, in fact in their first meeting Mycroft's face had been introduced to Lestrade's fist as well, what did the man owe to him? Was if for Esmond? Mycroft ignored the slightly hopeful feeling he got that was quickly replaced with a pang in his chest.

He blamed seeing Sherlock kiss the good doctor on the fact that he couldn't help but stare at the Detective's lips. Mycrofts throat felt dry as he began to wonder what was happening to him. Sure Lestrade was an attractive man, and Mycroft had never been bothered by gender or anything as trivial as that. But after Irene, Mycroft had told himself that he should never let himself give into his body like that again.

Esmond was the plus side to that short relationship but there were many things wrong with their relationship as well. She had been wanted by several countries and certainly unwilling to give up her lifestyle even with a child. But they had come to an agreement of sorts that neither of them would talk 'work' together, and it had been easier.

Still he couldn't help but feel that a life with Lestrade could end up being equally as complicated. Mycroft paused realizing he had been thinking about a life with the man sitting in front of him with no prior reasoning to that thought. He flustered. His mind wasn't normally disorganized.

He tried to straighten himself up when Lestrade started moving. The older man opened his eyes and they widened at the site of Mycroft. The man in the suit smiled and motioned to the side. Lestrade slowly turned his head to see Esmond lying against his side. So thats what that comfortable warmth had been. He flushed slightly before a thought crossed his head, had Mycroft been staring at him?

"Oh Mycroft!" John squeaked as he came into the living room obviously surprised. Mycroft smirked at the swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

"Doctor." Mycroft nodded his head and again when Sherlock came into the room. "Sherlock."

"A-about Esmond's hands." John started but Mycroft held up his hand.

"I will treat them properly, I have experience dealing with such burns," He gave Sherlock a look, "but I hope that we can come to some sort of agreement when it comes to experiements and my son but for now it is late and I would like to get him to bed."

"Just let him use Lestrade, he seems comfortable enough." Sherlock smirked obviously not caring that he looked thoroughly snogged as well. Lestrade finally noticed and flushed more.

"I should probably head out as well." The Detective decided looking at Mycroft was the best choice.

"One moment Detective." Mycroft moved over and set his umbrella down beside the chair before gently picking Esmond up trying to remember how Irene showed him to. Esmond opened his eyes before letting out a small huff in annoyance and wrapping his arms around his father's neck. Mycroft blinked before smiling and shifting his son around so he was easier to hold.

"I'll walk out with you." Lestrade smiled warmly up at them still not looking at Sherlock and John.

"Mycroft …" Sherlock stopped them before sighing. "I'm sorry."

Mycroft looked at Sherlock surprised for a moment before nodding, "It was an accident. Good night Sherlock … Doctor." He smirked at them both. "And congratulations."

John let out a noise and Sherlock smirked.

"Oh lets not forget this." Lestrade grabbed the umbrella before following Mycroft. "Bye guys."

"Lestrade." Sherlock nodded and immediately shut the door behind them.

"About time." Lestrade grinned up at Mycroft as they left the flat.

"Certainly." Mycroft smiled walking over to the parked car he paused. "Inspector would you like a ride?"

"It's Greg." Lestrade ran a hand through his hair, "And sure if you don't mind."

XXX


	4. Chapter 4

XXX

A Lesson From Bohemia

Chapter 04

XXX

It had been a whole week without any attack on a bridge. Lestrade ran his jittery hand through his hair trying to relax. It has hard when you were going on two nights with no sleep and so many cups of coffee he honestly had no idea the number. No more kids had turned up yet and Lestrade felt like this was just the calm before the storm and he had learned from years of experience that he should trust his gut.

So here he was, holed up in his office with Sally as they looked over the crime scenes of the children again. She wasn't complaining about him taking up her time so she and Anderson must have had a fight again.

"Why haven't they done anything to the bridges?" Sally asked agitated.

"They haven't finished the rhyme." Lestrade answered with a huff.

"Maybe they decided to stop?"

"We can hope but I would rather stay on guard and keep better eyes on the schools." Lestrade ran a hand through his hair again. With the force focusing on the bridges it might be straining it to keep an eye on the schools, he would bring it up to the Chief the next time he had a chance to meet with the man.

"Did you hear about the double homicide Inspector Bradstreet covered this morning?" Sally looked up at her boss obviously wanting to lighten the mood. Lestrade wondered if a double homicide was really the right source material for that.

"Yeah poor sods." Lestrade found himself looking at two pictures of the strangled kids with the bloody messages written beside them. Steven Evans and Monica Isaacs, both seven years old, both clever and wonderful kids with loving families, and both killed by some psychopath that they haven't been able to catch.

"Sir." Lestrade looked up at Sally who was watching him sadly. He could tell she wanted to tell him to step off the case, to take that bloody vacation she's been bothering him about for months, to stop torturing himself like this but she just sighed and stood up. "Coffee?"

Lestrade nodded and watched her leave. He couldn't drop this case, not until they found the killer and put him away. His thoughts stopped when Sally came back into his office without coffee and a serious expression. "There's been another one."

XXX

Mycroft looked up at Anthea who was working at her desk. She kept glancing at him when she thought he wouldn't notice, or maybe this was her way of letting him know there was something on her mind. He sighed causing her to look at him again.

"Mrs. Jones is there something on your mind?" He closed the folder he had been looking at; there must be something in the air today because he was even finding it hard to concentrate. His mind kept wavering to a certain Detective Inspector. Mycroft had enjoyed their small talk when taking the man home the other night and the image of Esmond sleeping against the older man's side kept coming into view as well.

But still he was at work and he should know better than to let his mind be preoccupied.

"How is life with Esmond?" Ah, Mycroft liked how straight to the point she was. He admitted that he shared very little of his home life with her as of late but he had been used to her being at his side and therefore witnessing most of the goings on in his life but Esmond hadn't enjoyed Mrs. Jones' presence so Mycroft had given her some more time free, which he thought she could enjoy with her own family.

"It is well." Mycroft hesitated he looked at the closed door before looking back at her, she got up from her desk and sat in one of his chairs relaxing slightly. He smiled, "I must admit that everything feels a little surreal."

"How so?" She asked with a grin.

"I feel like I'm going to wake up and he's going to be back home in America." Mycroft admitted, really he and Mrs. Jones had few secrets this far in their relationship.

"You seem a lot more … relaxed since you have started living together." She admitted.

"I'm afraid I'm not a very good father Mrs. Jones." Mycroft shook his head, "I don't know how relaxed I seem to appear but I'll assure you my mind has never been this disorganized." She raised an eyebrow at that. "Not that it would ever effect my work of course, it's just unsettling."

"Welcome to being a father." She smiled. "Before you only saw him in short periods of time and I'm sure you saw more of the good than the bad. Now you have both, the good and the bad."

Mycroft sighed running a hand through his hair and leaning back in the chair. "That's not what's bothering me." But how could he admit that he was afraid Esmond would learn more about his Da and hate him. How could Mycroft ever expect to live up to the expectations of that child? And the fact that Esmond seemed to be hiding something from Mycroft- but children were allowed secrets were they not? Mrs. Jones gave him a moment to collect himself for which he was grateful.

"While we are speaking off the record." She grabbed a file off of her desk and brought it to his. "I was settling past grievances Miss Adler had." Mycroft nodded, he had asked for Anthea to handle the ones she thought she could and leave the rest to him. "There seems to be some discrepancies and after interviewing some of her staff I think she might have gotten in a little deep with something."

Mycroft's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying her death may not have been an accident?" They had already studied the scenes, found the driver and everything had proven that it had been an accident.

"I'm saying that she had a visitor that none of her employees were able to meet or see and that she was afraid of him."

And the fact that there was a man that scared Irene Adler made a chill run down Mycroft's back.

XXX

Nothing could have prepared John for the scene they had come to. Sherlock had even stopped at the site of small girl laying dead in the alley way- Calantha Castle. seven years old- and the large message written in blood on the alley walls.

"Build it up with bricks and mortar,  
Bricks and mortar, bricks and mortar,  
Build it up with bricks and mortar,  
My fair lady."

John put on the gloves and walked over to where Anderson was kneeling beside the body. He shot a glance at Lestrade and Sally who both looked tired and grim.

"He skipped a verse." Sherlock was looking at the message with a confused expression, "There's one before this."

"Of course he would focus on that." Sally scoffed but everyone ignored it. Even John knew she was just venting out her frustration of the case.

"There weren't any more before this?" Sherlock looked at Lestrade who shook his head.

"And I'm bloody well sure something would have called it in." Lestrade ran a hand through his hair. "They haven't really been doing this in the most discreet places."

John realized he was right, they weren't dumping the children in areas to hide the bodies. They were putting them in places so that they could be found.

"A different person strangled her." Anderson mumbled beside John causing him to jump. The other man's voice sounded flat and lifeless. "There are pictures of the other two at the office …"

"How do you know it was someone else?" Sherlock was on the other side of the girl suddenly with his magnifying glass. If it weren't for how much paler Sherlock was and how much slower he seemed to be moving John would have liked to tell him his behavior was a 'bit not good' but it seemed the Consulting Detective was a bit distracted.

"The bruises on her neck are smaller than the ones from before." Anderson stood up and walked away.

"What do you think John?" Sherlock looked at John, he was hunched more than usual and John wanted to hold him. But now was not the time for that.

"I would say a woman or a teenager? Someone with smaller hands definitely." He hesitantly opened his hand next to her neck, the hands would have been smaller than his even. He pulled it back immediately and stood away from the body.

"We're going to need to see the photographs from the other crime scenes." Sherlock looked at Lestrade backing up from the body as well. Anderson and the other forensics team moved to bag it up.

"Alright." Lestrade looked at Donovan. "We're going to need to have a go with the press. And I'm going to have to talk with the Chief as soon as we get back."

John realized the man looked like he hadn't slept in days. He looked over to Sherlock who was staring at the message on the wall. He walked over and before he even realized he had done it he slid his hand into Sherlock's and squeezed it reassuringly but left if there. Sherlock gave John a side-long glance before looking at the writing again and squeezing his hand back.

"Is there something else?" John whispered.

"I don't know yet." Sherlock frowned squeezing his hand one more time before letting go and heading to the street.

XXX

Mycroft watched grimly at the newscast that was playing at the top screen of his computer. Mrs. Jones had let him know that Detective Inspector Lestrade was talking to the press, Mycroft couldn't bring himself to call the man Greg- he felt like he was stepping over some sort of boundary that he had made for himself. But he tried not to think too hard about it.

Sherlock was involved now and therefore so was John. Mycroft looked at the folder on his desk. He was going to have to take a trip to America and this wasn't going to be a trip Esmond would be allowed to go on.

If he left he would have to find someone for Esmond to stay with because John and Sherlock would be busy now. And as much as he liked Mrs. Hudson he didn't think it would be fair to impose his child on her at her age.

Mycroft sighed. He would have to give the task to Mrs. Jones. He didn't know what he would be running into and he didn't want to take chances with his son. He looked at Mrs. Jones, he had a feeling she already knew how this was going to go when she had given them the folder. He sighed.

"My flight is leaving tonight." She glanced at him before looking back at her phone. Mycroft smirked, it must be handy to be married to a pilot. The news ended and Lestrade was no longer on the screen. Mycroft turned off his computer and got up putting the folder on her desk on the way out.

"Be careful." He tapped the folder twice. "Follow protocol." Said protocol required her to text him every hour on the hour while awake, among other things.

"Yes sir." He tapped the desk one more time before leaving the office. It was time to pick Esmond up from school.

XXX

"You're bloody kidding." Lestrade snorted as he watched John clean the kitchen. Which really wasn't something one should be doing when a few shades into the wind. At least he didn't think it seemed like something a normal person would do when drunk. Not that he could say anything of course.

"Nope." John shook his head laughed as he pulled his head out of the stove holding a rag and a scrub brush in the other. "I somehow got on a list to bring a couple dozen cupcakes to this bloody bake sale for the clinic! I don't even know how to bake and Mrs. Hudson is on bloody holiday … "

They both turned as the door swung open to the apartment and Sherlock came stomping in. He stopped and stared at both of them for a second before scoffing and walking to his room. Lestrade gave him an amused smirk. "Where ya' been Sherlock?"

"What have you done with my experiments?" Sherlock came back out of the room and stood next to Lestrade who was sitting on the floor. Lestrade pretended not to notice Sherlock ogle John's ass as the man cleaned the oven.

"They're in 221C!" John shouted before sticking his head back out and noticing Sherlock was right there. "Oh, Greg and I just put everything down in 221C. Mrs. Hudson said we could use it for now and I think after Esmond … " He paused, "We didn't break anything and honestly if you like it I'm sure we can work something out with Mrs. Hudson at least until Esmond is old eno-"

Lestrade flushed as Sherlock interrupted John with a kiss. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're an idiot." John smiled at Sherlock.

"You taste like beer." Sherlock sighed before running a finger on the counter and looking at it like a mother checking for dust. Lestrade snorted into the beer he was drinking.

"Just making sure that if anyone gets food poisoning it's from my lack of cooking ability and not from any of the actual poison you keep in here." John groaned as he stood up, his knees popping as he did so.

"I'll help you with the bloody cupcakes." Lestrade yawned setting his beer on the floor. "I don't want to have to be putting you behind bars for killing any of the good medical persons of London."

"You can cook?" John snorted half believing.

"Well it might not taste that great but at least I wouldn't be killing anyone." Lestrade snipped back sarcastically. "But as a warning I haven't baked a cake in a while."

"Last time was for me if I believe." Sherlock mumbled going to the fridge, he seemed to be surprised at how empty it was.

"There's a fridge in 221C." John answered the unspoken question. "Now, a cake … why?"

"Didn't know when his birthday was." Lestrade answered honestly. "Couldn't get the date out of his brother either so I just made one and gave it to him. Rather embarrassing now that I think about it." He realized that it was pretty weird for a bloke to be making another bloke a cake.

"I'll be honest at first I thought he was trying to poison me for breaking into so many crime scenes. After I tested it and it came back negative I thought he was hitting on me." At that Lestrade spit out his drink.

"Bloody hell, you serious?"

John burst out laughing and Sherlock smirked. "Then Mycroft had to explain to me the Detective was just being stupid and we made an agreement that he wouldn't ever make me a cake again."

"So how long have you and Mycroft known each other?" John walked into the living room and sat in his chair with a small groan. "God I think I'm done cleaning for the night."

"Off the floor Lestrade." Lestrade made a surprised noise as hands grabbed his arms and helped him off the floor. He looked at Sherlock surprised as he was guided to the couch and sat down. "Next time just go to the pub. And I would say that Lestrade has known my brother as long as he has known me."

"Oh did you get kidnapped too?" John hugged the pillow that usually sat in his chair. Lestrade raised an eyebrow.

"Kidnap?" He snorted. "The man was sitting in my apartment when I came home from well … the worst week of my life." Lestrade groaned at the memory. "This posh git in a suit starts talking about the biggest arse I've ever had to deal with and then offers to pay me to spy on him or something like I was some sort of bent copper."

"Biggest arse?" Sherlock smirked, "I believe you had better choice words at the time."

"And he does the money bit with everyone." John smirked.

"Whatever, it was a very serious thing for him to assume I would be a bent cop." Lestrade huffed he looked at John. "You know I've been trying to get both of them to call me Greg for years and neither of them do it."

"You did punch him." Sherlock reminded Lestrade as he sat on the arm of the chair John was in. John in turn made a spluttering noise.

"Y-you punched the government!"

"I did say I was havin' a tough day yeah?" Lestrade sighed. "Anyways we're over that now aren't we? Your brother's a pretty nice guy once you get past all the secret service shite." He waived his hand nonchalantly. He really did like it when Mycroft was around.

"Do you like my brother Lestrade?" The Detective Inspector gave Sherlock an annoyed look.

"Of course I like your sodding brother Sherlock, I just said he's a nice guy right?" He suddenly realized he was laying down on the couch, but really … it was too comfortable to move. "He's just … you know so posh all the bloody time. James Bloody Bond." Lestrade smiled thinking about when Mycroft had given him a ride home a few nights ago. "Those suits, that damn brolly …" He paused looking at Sherlock who seemed to be watching Lestrade like he was an experiment, which once again he was used to so he ignored it, "How's he holding up anyway?"

"Hm?" The question seemed to have broke Sherlock's train of thought.

"You know … with Esmond and everything. He did just lose his wife and all." Lestrade wondered if Mycroft was seeking any counseling.

"Oh they weren't married. Mycroft and that woman." Sherlock shook his head. "Neither of them wanted it. It would have been horrible really and Mummy never approved of their relationship. They both gave into a moment of passion and Esmond was the end result."

Lestrade blinked. "That seems complicated."

"Does it? Neither of them wanted to be married, I certainly don't believe they ever really loved each other in that sense. Maybe after they had a child they formed some sort of relationship but all I know is Mycroft visited America every time he had a chance and has seemed to develop some fathering skills that are necessary to continue living with his son." Sherlock was looking at his hands with an odd expression. It was obvious even John thought something was weird. "And since then to my knowledge Mycroft has never engaged in a relationship with someone else but I am sure he has had a fling or two with rentboy."

Lestrade almost choked at the last remark. "Surely he has options available that are a lot more sanitary … and legal."

Sherlock smirked. "Offering your services Lestrade? I honestly have no knowledge of my brother's type when it comes to men but as you can see with her." he looked at the picture on the mantle piece before looking back at Lestrade. "He seems rather picky. Though I have to say watching you two interact as of late has been most educational."

"I have no idea what you're talking about and you're making my head hurt." Lestrade pinched the bridge of his nose feeling a head ache coming on. He was so tired. "So are you two shagging now?" He looked over at John and Sherlock who both flushed.

"Obviously you already know you fucking knob." John threw his pillow at Lestrade looking embarrassed.

"Really, when the two of you are drunk your language gets rather foul doesn't it?" Sherlock made a face before standing up. "On that note Lestrade, you can take John's room upstairs if you can make it but I believe we are all going to have a long day tomorrow."

"Now I don't want to be hearing any noises." Lestrade laughed as he slowly got up from the couch. He tiredly went up the stairs and closed the door to John's room. He yawned as he threw off his shirt and pants leaving on his boxers and undershirt but much to his own chagrin he didn't fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He stared up at the ceiling as all the thoughts he had been trying to keep out of his mind suddenly came rushing back, as if being alone allowed them to take control of his thoughts again. The murders, the dead kids, the London Bridge and those damned rhymes. He closed his eyes as he heard John's muffled laugh from downstairs.

He could see their faces as if they were in the room with him … Steven Evans, Monica Isaacs, Calantha Castle … Gabrielle Lestrade. His fists clenched the sheets of the bed, he shouldn't have drunk so much. All these kids, all seven years old … why? His mind suddenly thought of young Esmond, who looked so much like a Holmes it would be hard to miss.

He had to make sure that they stopped the killer from getting another kid, what if it was Esmond next? Lestrade shook his head trying to get away from that train of thought but found himself instead imagining how devastated Mycroft would be. He took deep breaths and curled up into a ball trying to think of happier things.

He had to get some rest, he wouldn't be of any help if he couldn't keep from passing out. He closed his eyes willing himself to fall asleep. He needed to think of boring things, like paperwork or days off at home but even those kept going to where he didn't want. There were a few more noises downstairs and Lestrade flushed, were they really going at it? While he was in the house? They both had to know how well sound traveled in here.

Then again, Lestrade thought that realistically he would be doing the same if he had just gotten into a new relationship. They had probably thought he would pass out as soon as he hit the bed, and now he was really wishing he had. With those noises it was really hard for his imagination not to take effect.

He groaned. It was going to be a long night.

XXX

"So there bad people hanging out around school?" Esmond looked up at his Da as they went on their way to school.

"I'm just telling you to be careful." Mycroft certainly didn't want to make his son worry but at the same time with there being a serial murderer on the loose whose victims were seven year old children, Mycroft hadn't even wanted to send his son to school. "Don't talk to anyone you don't know and if you see something let one of your teachers know."

The car stopped and they both got out so they could walk to the school. "I know talking to strangers is a bad idea Da." Esmond rolled his eyes, "I'm not a baby."

"Of course not." Mycroft put his hand on Esmond's head as they walked. "But I want you to take this anyway." He pulled a blue whistle out of his pocket, "And if anyone tries to take you I want you to blow on it. But only if something bad is happening, this isn't a toy."

"It's a whistle." Esmond took it and put it around his neck.

"Not a toy." Mycroft reminded him. "At least not now so please only use it if you're in trouble."

"Fine." Esmond huffed reaching up to grab his Da's hand as they made it to the crosswalk. "But you be careful too okay?"

Mycroft smiled at his son. "I will son, now have a good day and tell Maggie hi for me."

Esmond beamed up at his Da. "I will!" He laughed before tucking the whistle under his shirt and walking to the school. Mycroft watched as his son looked around before giving him one last wave and walking in. He frowned. Mycroft couldn't explain the sudden feeling of dread as he left the school, glancing over all the familiar faces of the usual parents before he left. He was glad to spot a few constables in the area.

Still there was a small instinct tell him that he needed to keep an eye on his son. And that Esmond might know a little more about Irene's private visitor than he should.

XXX

Another one.

Another bloody damn kid.

Louis Henderson, age 7. Lestrade stared at the pictures in his office, Sally was helping him look through the files again. He looked down at the picture of the next verse of the rhyme written in the little boy's blood.

"Bricks and mortar will not stay,  
Will not stay, will not stay,  
Bricks and mortar will not stay,  
My fair lady."

And like that everything Lestrade had been trying to hold back. Hold it back so he could solve this case and stop the murderer from killing more innocent children. The breaking pointing hit him so hard Lestrade wondered why no one else in the building heard the cracking sound.

"Nothing's adding up!" Lestrade threw his note pad on the ground. "None of them go to the same school! None of them live in the same area! And this is by someone new?"

"Sir … " Sally looked at him surprised.

"They have to leave some sort of evidence! Some sort of trail other than the bodies of bloody children!" He knocked the papers off his desk. He couldn't save them. He couldn't save them like he was useless to save Gabrielle and Tobi and "Fuck!"

The door to his office opened and it was John and Sherlock. John was looking at Lestrade surprised and Sherlock looked down right livid. Lestrade ran his hands through his hair shakily.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." Sherlock looked around the office before passing John and walking over to Lestrade who was surprised at the sudden lack of personal space. "You're not any use to me like this Lestrade."

The words hit Lestrade like a slap to the face. He realized he was shaking as he stared up at Sherlock who was staring hard down at him.

"Sherlock!" John yelled put seemed hesitant to come over to them.

"If you can't separate yourself from this case then I suggest you get off it." Sherlock was so close that Lestrade could feel his breath against his face. Everything seemed to stop for that moment as he stared up at Sherlock. And it seemed he suddenly couldn't think and he opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

"Oi Freak back off!" Sally was getting up but he lifted his hand up motioning her to stop.

He looked around at the mess he caused and the people in his office. Sherlock was right. He shouldn't be on the case. He never should have been on the case. He ran his hand over his face.

"You're right." He grabbed his jacket and pushed past everyone out of the office and headed towards the Chief's office. It was time he took that holiday.

XXX

"I can't seem to find anything sir."

Mycroft tapped his desk as Mrs. Jones spoke on the phone.

"None of the employees' descriptions match up and the best picture I can get is an unmarked vehicle." Mycroft tapped the desk again. "Sir, I have a bad feeling about this."

"Get back home Mrs. Jones." Mycroft closed his eyes. "Protocol." He reminded in a light tone and he hung up after she let out a small laugh. He found himself wishing he had installed more cameras or had more people keep watch over Irene than he had. But she never allowed it and always saw through someone employed by him.

He looked at the phone on his desk and tapped it. He looked at the time.

Mycroft didn't like feeling like things were out of his control. He spent most of his life with things in control.

Then there was a knock at his door.

XXX

Lestrade didn't know how he ended up here again. He really didn't. After he had signed himself off the case, given his whole team over to Hopkins he somehow ended up sitting in John and Sherlock's flat. He had left Scotland Yard with the intent to go home, get plastered and wake up after the two days he had been allowed off by the Chief. (Really he had been crazy to think he could get holiday time while things were going mad.) Instead he found himself being shoved into a cab by one Dr. Watson minus Sherlock and taken to their flat.

Lestrade felt like he had failed everyone and everything and honestly the last time he had been this disappointed in himself was a long time ago. He should have known better as a superior officer of the law. He was thankful John didn't talk much, when they got to the apartment he was sat on the couch, handed a cup of tea and told to make himself at home and then John left.

He realized he was staring at the door. It took him a second to realize that his phone was ringing. How long had he been sitting there like that?

"Lestrade."

"There's a problem." It was Sherlock. Sherlock didn't like talking on the phone. Lestrade frowned and stood up.

"What happened?" He shouldn't have left, he should have stayed and helped. He could have-

"I need you to pick up Esmond from school. Something's come up and Mycroft can't get him. John and I are going to all the crime scenes."

"Is your brother okay?" Lestrade suddenly felt cold, there was a long pause on the phone. "Sherlock?"

"I don't know. It wasn't him that called me. Can you pick up Esmond?" Sherlock sounded a bit off but Lestrade thought that the largest part of it might be the fact that the man was on the phone.

"Yeah, will he be okay with that? I know I'm not a stranger but I'm certainly not family." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Practically are." Sherlock said rather quickly and Lestrade stopped. He honestly didn't have a response to that. "Will you?"

Lestrade laughed nervously, "Sure … but what will I do with him?"

"Make a cupcake." And Sherlock hung up. And Lestrade stared at the phone before shaking his head. He looked at the time. Shit, when did Esmond's school get out? He looked around flat before dumping the tea in the sink and heading out.

He was slightly thankful for something to occupy his mind as he walked down the street. He also hoped no one would get the bright idea to rob 221 Baker Street since he didn't have a key and therefore left it unlocked. The thought of taking Esmond to his flat did cross his mind but really, he felt like a creepy uncle if he did something like that.

Because even if the kid knew him, he wasn't family. And he did like to think that he and Mycroft's son got along well enough. Actually he found himself hoping that the kid liked him, but even Lestrade was adult to admit to himself that maybe it wasn't just the young Holme's affection he was hoping for.

Mycroft Holmes seemed to be occupying his thoughts more and more as of late. Lestrade sighed, this wasn't the time to be thinking about any of this kind of thing. He needed to focus on his job. He may have taken himself off of the case but that doesn't mean he wasn't going to work on it at all.

A whistle broke his concentration. Lestrade looked up as the whistle sounded again. The school was just around the corner. There was another whistle and a shout and suddenly Lestrade found himself running towards the school as fast as he could. He looked forward and barely managed to dodge a car as he ran across the street.

As soon as he got in front of the school he watched a Constable tackle a man … in front of a little red-head girl and Esmond Adler-Holmes, who had a whistle in his mouth and looked rather furious, at least as furious as a seven year old blowing a whistle could look. Then there was chaos.

He ran past parents, teachers and kids freaking out as he ran over to Esmond and the little girl. Another Constable ran up to help his friend with the man that had been tackled.

"Maggie!" A woman came running over to Esmond and the girl, Maggie, ran over to her mom.

"Mr. Greg!" Esmond realized he was there and ran over to him looking around. Lestrade got on his knees and put his hands on Esmond's arms.

"Esmond are you okay? What happened?" Lestrade realized he was shaking but so was Mycroft's son who was watching the police put the man in a car as another officer came up to them.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade?" The man came up to them slower now that he had recognized Lestrade. Greg couldn't help but wonder if his freak out in the office had already gotten around. After all, coppers loved gossip.

"Yes," He tried to remember the guys name, he had seen him at the office a few times. "Barnes was it?"

"Yes sir. Just patrolling the area, heard the whistle and saw the bloke trying to carry away the young lady. This lad here," Barnes gestured at Esmond, "started blowing the whistle and fighting the man off. Brave son you got there sir."

"Oh he's not my-" Lestrade laughed running a hand through his hair and looking at Esmond who was still looking around. "son, but friend of the family.."

"Well you are a very brave young man." Barnes smiled at Esmond. "You mind answering a few questions?"

"Where is Da?" Esmond looked up at Lestrade confused, he noticed the boy was holding his whistle tightly in his hand and shaking slightly, probably from adrenaline. Lestrade took his jacket off and wrapped it around him tightly.

"He's a little busy so I came to pick you up. Sherlock and John are working too, is it okay if I take you to their flat?" Lestrade asked nervously hoping Esmond wouldn't ask too much about his Da because Lestrade had no idea.

"That's fine." Esmond looked back at Barnes. "What then?"

Lestrade rolled his eyes, heaven forbid a Holmes is ever polite to the law in any circumstance. Barnes coughed before pulling out his pad, "Would you mind telling me what happened?"

Esmond thought for a second. "Well I saw Maggie walking away with him but he isn't her Da or her Mom so I ran over to ask if she knew him. Because Da told me there were bad strangers and I like Maggie so I didn't want her to go away with a bad guy. Well she didn't know him and he told me to bugger off …" Esmond paused and looked at Lestrade, "Will you tell me what that means later Mr. Greg?"

Lestrade let out a chuckle. "Sure."

"Anyways," Esmond went on as if there hadn't been a pause. "I blew my whistle like Da told me to and then your friend tackled him. Which I thank you for because I'm sure he would have taken Maggie."

Lestrade got the distinct feeling Esmond liked this Maggie rather a lot. He looked over at the girl and her mom, they were talking to another officer. He frowned. "You think he's one of the kil-" He stopped taking a breath and looked at Esmond before looking back at Barnes. "Hurry up and get him away from the kids, let Hopkins know you're on the way. He's going to want to have a talk with that man."

Barnes nodded before giving a small salute to Esmond with a smile and heading to the car as Lestrade pulled out his cell. He called John, it was too weird to talk to Sherlock on the phone.

"Lestrade is everything okay?" John sounded worried and out of breath, Lestrade wondered if Sherlock had the both of them running around town.

"There's a man who tried to abduct a student on the way to the Yard, thought Sherlock would like to know." Lestrade felt a small hand grab his and he looked down at Esmond surprised. Esmond leaned against him while holding his hand, he obviously wanted to leave.

"How do you know this?" Sherlock had stolen the phone after John had told him.

"Because your nephew is the one that stopped him." Lestrade squeezed Esmond's hand giving him a smile. "He might have a future as an officer."

"God save the Queen." Sherlock snorted, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, I'm taking him back to your flat now." Lestrade paused, "And Sherlock … "

"What?"

"Try to get along with Hopkins." Lestrade laughed as the man hung up the phone. He looked down at Esmond who was looking at his whistle. "So your Da gave that to you? Brilliant man he is."

"Yeah this morning," Esmond looked at it curiously. "Where is my Da? Did something happen to him?"

Lestrade bent down beside Esmond, if there was one thing he learned from Mycroft and Sherlock it was that one always regretted lying to a Holmes. "I don't know, your uncle asked me to pick you up." He ruffled Esmond's hair, "Are you okay with walking or would you like me to carry you?"

Esmond rolled his eyes, "I can walk, I'm not a baby." He squeezed Lestrade's hand while looking down at his whistle. "The man that tried to take Maggie, was he bad?"

"How about we talk about this over a nice cup of milk and whatever is edible in your uncle's apartment?" Lestrade smiled as he started walking and Esmond went along with him. Esmond was still looking at the whistle when he nodded, Lestrade frowned. "Is there something wrong?"

"I think my Da is going to be in trouble just like Mom." Esmond mumbled before looking up wide-eyed at Lestrade like he just told a secret.

"What makes you think that?" Lestrade tried to smile but then Esmond was looking around obviously looking for someone to be going after them. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm not allowed to talk about it." Esmond looked at the ground. "I'm not allowed to talk about it or I'll get in trouble too."

"Esmond what are you talking about?" Lestrade stopped making the boy stop too. Esmond looked slightly pained and shook his head. Lestrade looked around, he didn't see anyone out of the ordinary. "Is there someone threatening you?"

Esmond didn't shake or nod his head. Or meet Lestrade's eyes.

"Can we go home now? Please?" Esmond pulled on his hand.

Lestrade looked around before he started walking, he didn't think anyone was tailing him. He had been tailed before, he knew what to look for. He bit his lip and looked down at Esmond who looked like he was about to cry.

"Hey guess what." Lestrade smiled trying to change the subject, he would have to tell Mycroft and Sherlock about this later though, Esmond looked up at him expectantly. "I'm going to make some cupcakes."

"Oh! Can they be blue?"

XXX

Mycroft stood at the bottom of the stairs of 221 Baker Street, he felt exhausted and worried and too many things at the moment that he needed to take a moment to compose himself. But there were a few things keeping him from doing so, first off Sherlock and John weren't home, neither of their jackets were in the hall closet and even though sometimes Sherlock didn't put his jacket there, the Beatles were playing rather loudly from their apartment. Which he was sure Sherlock would not allow.

He took a few more deep breaths before making his way up the stairs. He couldn't help but smile when he realized that Esmond was singing along with the music and then a deeper voice joined him and Mycroft felt his heart skip a beat. Which was strange, he could honestly not remember it doing something like that before.

He walked into the flat and went over to the kitchen to see Esmond mixing up cake batter in a large bowl, he was covered head to toe in flour and still singing rather loudly. Mycroft wanted to take a picture and frame it and put it on his desk at work for tough days, he had to settle for a mental picture though. His gaze traveled to Lestrade who was also covered head to toe in flour, as a matter of fact the whole kitchen looked like some sort of baking experiment gone wrong, but the man was singing and pouring batter into some cupcake pans.

Mycroft wanted to have a picture of that for totally different reasons.

"Da!" Esmond finally noticed Mycroft and ran over to him.

"Wait wait!" Lestrade caught the boy before he hugged his father's legs. "You're a mess!" He laughed.

"It's alright Detective Inspector." Mycroft smirked as he took off his jacket and threw it on the back of a chair before giving Esmond a hug. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yes! I used your whistle!" Esmond pulled it out from under his shirt and grinned. Mycroft smiled, the man he had watching Esmond had already told him about what had happened at the school. "Did you? Well why don't you tell me about it."

"Okay! Wait you can help too! Um … "Esmond looked up at Lestrade and Lestrade blinked back.

"Huh? Oh!" He looked at Mycroft rather sheepishly, "Um, if you want to that is?"

"Of course." Mycroft stood up, "What do you have left?"

"You can make the icing!" Esmond went back over to his table, "Oh wait Da, you need one more thing to be able to cook! Come here!"

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and went over to his son he glance at Lestrade who had gone wide-eyed and was shaking his head. "No no no!"

And then a large ball of flour hit Mycroft in the face. He wiped his face of the dust to see he was now in a close to similar state of Esmond and Lestrade, well this answered some questions. He gave his son a look. Esmond was trying to look at him innocently but failing.

"And this helps me how?"

"It doesn't." Esmond answered honestly with a small giggle. "I just wanted to do it."

Mycroft's lips twitched as he glared over at Lestrade for not giving him a proper warning. Lestrade in turn was trying not to laugh. "Looks good on you."

"Hm." Mycroft let out a small laugh, "Well if that's the case then I guess I shan't complain. Icing was it?" He smirked when Lestrade blushed.

"Over here." Lestrade pointing at a bowl with supplies by it. "Everything's there, it just needs to be mixed."

Mycroft went over and started mixing things as Esmond started telling the story about the bad stranger who tried to take Maggie. Mycroft felt a sudden swelling of pride for his son as he told the story and he looked over at Lestrade who seemed lost in thought. That's when Mycroft realized that Lestrade shouldn't be here, he should be out with Sherlock and John.

He wondered idly what had happened to change things? Lestrade looked exhausted. Mycroft frowned, wasn't the man taking care of himself? He looked back at his son. "So is Maggie your sweetheart?"

Lestrade snorted and Mycroft looked at him amused as Esmond gaped at his Da. "She's not!" Esmond flushed hotly. "I just like her, isn't that okay? Like you like Mom but she wasn't your girlfriend."

Mycroft smiled at his son. "It's perfectly fine, whatever you're feeling. Though, I have to tell you that your mother's and my relationship was rather strange."

Esmond was still blushing and pouting. "I don't want a sweetheart, that's gross." He looked at the batter he had been mixing and then looked at Lestrade, "I'm done."

"Why don't you clean yourself up a bit." Mycroft nodded toward the door of Sherlock's room. "But don't touch anything if you don't know what it is."

"Okay, can we wait for Uncle Sherlock and Dr. Watson to get back before we leave?" He got down from the table before looking at his Da for an answer.

"Yes, there is something I need to talk to them about." Mycroft nodded and Esmond smiled before making his way to Sherlock's bathroom. He looked over at Lestrade as the man grabbed the batter that Esmond had been working on and stirred it up a bit. He wanted to ask Lestrade why he was here among other things but he found himself wanting to be careful around the other man. He definitely didn't want to offend him.

Something Mycroft usually cared little about.

"Long day?" Lestrade smiled at Mycroft and the older Holmes found himself blushing slightly.

"Very, it's part of why I need to talk to my brother." Mycroft scratched his cheek. "You?"

"I honestly wouldn't know where to begin." Lestrade gave him a sad smile. "I hope everything's okay, I actually think Sherlock was worried about you."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "You must be kidding." Lestrade gave off an amused snort. "Ah, you were?"

"No." Lestrade shook his head, "You just got." He motioned at his face. Mycroft had icing on his chin. It was hard for Lestrade to ignore how tempting the other man looked, covered in flour while wearing that damned posh suit. He laughed when Mycroft tried to wipe it off but kept missing. "Here let me … "

He reached over and wiped the icing off with his thumb before sticking it in his mouth. "Hmmm good job on the icing." He looked up and his eyes met bright blue ones, he flushed. This was rather intimate wasn't it? "I -uh."

They were rather close weren't they? Lestrade realized they both were slightly leaning into each other. He looked up at Mycroft, who was looking right back at him. Had they been this close the whole time? Was Mycroft blushing? Just the thought had Lestrade flushing more. Mycroft leaned a little bit further and Lestrade found himself leaning up. Then their lips were touching and it was chaste and too quick and absolutely wonderful Lestrade found himself thinking as he pulled away. He looked up at Mycroft who had a dazed expression, what the hell?

He grabbed the posh man's tie and pulled him forward into another kiss. Mycroft seemed to have the same idea because there was nothing chaste about this one, it tasted like icing, tea and something else that was even better than their last kiss. There was a tongue sliding over his and Lestrade couldn't hold back the groan. He realized Mycroft had put his bowl down and now both his hands were on Lestrade's hips.

"Hey Da what does bugger off mean?"

Both of them jumped away from each other. Lestrade looked back and forth between Mycroft and Esmond. He put a hand over his mouth. "I gotta go." He squeaked and practically ran out of the flat.

What the hell was that?

XXX


	5. Chapter 5

XXX

A Lesson From Bohemia

Chapter 05

XXX

Mycroft found he was staring at the route Lestrade had taken in his quick exit. He blinked and covered his hand with his mouth. His first thought had been, well that's new … but then he had to remind himself that maybe this wasn't as much of as a surprise as he really thought it was. All he really knew was that he wanted to do it again.

"Da? Why did Mr. Greg leave?" Mycroft turned and looked at his son who was looking up at him for an answer.

"I believe he needs some time alone." Mycroft smiled at his son. "And bugger off is a crude way of telling someone to go away." It looked like Esmond had done a good job in cleaning himself off without taking a shower, that would just have to wait for home where there was a change of clothes.

"Oh, English people have a lot of funny ways to say things." Esmond laughed. "Is Mr. Greg coming back?"

"He left his keys and jacket so I would assume so." Mycroft looked at the time. "Why don't you start reading that book you got the other day and I'll finish up these cupcakes?"

"Okay." Esmond shrugged. "Do you like Mr. Greg Da?"

Mycroft thought about it. "I do."

"Okay then." And Esmond went to the couch with his book-bag and pulled out his book. Mycroft watched his son for a moment. "Esmond, why do you call the Detective Inspector Mr. Greg, but you call John Dr. Watson?"

"I like Mr. Greg, he remind me of mom sometimes." Esmond answered not looking up from his books. "And Dr. Watson is a doctor isn't he? You have to respect Doctors."

"Yes but you might want to practice calling him Dr. John at least, I believe he's going to be your Aunt." Mycroft smirked. Esmond shrugged still looking at his books.

"Okay Da."

XXX

There were many things John would expect to be in his flat when he came back home with Sherlock. There were many things that he didn't expect to be there but wouldn't have surprised him if they were. But he certainly was not expecting to find his kitchen full of blue cupcakes and one flour-covered Mycroft Holmes. And he stopped so suddenly at the sight that Sherlock actually bumped into him.

"Where is Lestrade?" Sherlock looked around the flat and then glared slightly at Mycroft. "Did you do something?"

"I decided these cupcakes needed something extra for flavor." Mycroft smirked. Sherlock's eyes narrowed more. "I was just teasing, Sherlock." Mycroft sighed putting down the cupcake.

"You aren't one for teasing usually." Sherlock replied looked over at Esmond who was reading a book, he looked back at the cupcakes. "Give up on your diet?" John sighed and went over to Esmond but Sherlock stayed in the kitchen with his brother.

"Of course not." Mycroft frowned. He could hear John and Esmond talking in the background. "I came here to pick up my son and talk to you, I didn't know you were starting a bakery."

Sherlock picked up one of the cupcakes and started eating the icing off of it with his finger. "What happened to Lestrade?"

"He needed a moment alone." Mycroft sighed, he wondered if he had ruined his relationship with the Detective Inspector.

"What did you do to him?"

Mycroft smiled at his brother. "I can assure you, you wouldn't want to know."

At this Sherlock's eyes widened a bit before he put the cupcake down. "Ah." Mycroft tried not to smirk, Sherlock always did have an active imagination. "Not that I care but you should know he's taken himself off the case." Mycroft nodded in thanks, so that's why Lestrade wasn't with Sherlock and John. He frowned he might have pressed matters a little too quickly while Lestrade was vulnerable … it didn't make him feel great.

"This case seems to be getting more complicated." Sherlock continued, Mycroft raised an eyebrow, it was rare when his brother would want to include him in cases so he listened. "The killer's, there are more than two, seem to be picking the children randomly but they leave absolutely no evidence behind. Yet when I talked to the man that got arrested today because of Esmond he was so completely amateurish about the whole ordeal I wanted to strangle him myself."

"None of his responses went along with any of my theories, his hands didn't match any of bruises left on the murdered children and I seriously doubt he was even clever enough to tie his own shoe laces this morning." Sherlock was pacing now. "And this London Bridge rhyme … why did they skip a verse? Is it a clue? Are they just trying to throw me off? There's something else going on here Mycroft. Are they going to attack London Bridge? Any of the bridges in London? Why are they killing children?" Sherlock glanced at his brother who was still listening for all intents and purposes.

"It was rumored that the base of the London Bridge is to have contained orphan children." Mycroft started icing the cupcake again.

Sherlock shook his head, "I thought of that but it still doesn't make sense. Why are they killing children now? Why did they skip that verse?"

"Esmond are you okay?" Even thought it was spoken very softly both Mycroft and Sherlock looked over to the living room.

"My head just hurts." Mycroft got up from the table and peeked into the living room. Esmond was rubbing his eyes with a frown.

"Why don't you take a break?" John rubbed Esmond's back before getting up. "Would you like some tea?"

"Milk please." Esmond put his book to the side and lay down on the couch.

John looked up at Mycroft a put a hand on his shoulder. "Just a headache." He whispered as he passed the man. "He just needs some rest." Mycroft looked at his son one more time before looking back at Sherlock.

"He seems to be getting those more often." Mycroft sighed but notice John give him a look. "I don't think it's anything to worry about, it's a Holmes trait I'm afraid." He smiled, "Thank you Doctor."

"Oh." Sherlock straightened before walking into his room. "Oh! I might be on to something!"

Mycroft was half-tempted to follow his brother but doing something he wouldn't normal do seemed to be having bad effects today. So he went back to the table to finish icing the cupcakes and wondering when Lestrade would come back.

He watched as Sherlock came out of his room with a box and dropped it in a chair before sliding the chair to the wall. He then proceeded to shove all the furniture away to make a large empty area in the middle of their sitting room. Sherlock was muttering to himself darkly as he threw things out of his way.

"Watch it!" John came over and helped him move things, John being more gentle than his flatmate. "What are you doing?"

"I need to …" Sherlock didn't finish answering as he dumped the box on the floor causing John to frown. "Get me the pictures from the crime scenes." Sherlock motioned at John who just sighed and did as he was told. "Mycroft, was there something else?"

"Sherlock." John sighed giving Mycroft an apologetic look as Sherlock put pieces together on the map. "Esmond probably shouldn't see this."

Mycroft glance at his son who was watching Sherlock with interest. He smiled sadly and looked at John. "Esmond what is your uncle doing?"

"He's making a map." Esmond answered quickly looking at his Da.

Mycroft shook his head. "Of what?"

"The four kids that died." Esmond glanced back at Sherlock.

"Mycroft I don't think that's-" John started but Mycroft shook his head again.

"Mycroft I seriously doubt he is anything like us." Sherlock snorted as he continued to move things around. "His mother after all was-"

"Anything but plain." Mycroft tsked Sherlock with a small frown. "I see he's been fooling everyone then. Acting skill, no doubt from his mother." Mycroft had noticed what Esmond was doing. He just wanted to know why.

At that Sherlock and John both looked at Esmond who was trying to look at the map on the floor from his spot on the couch. Esmond looked at the grown men watching him, "What?"

"Esmond what do you know about the murders of the children?"

"Mycro-"

"Da?" Esmond looked at his Da confused. Mycroft nodded at him and he bit his lip. "Four kids as far as I've heard. Evans, Isaacs, Castle and a Henderson. Two boys and two girls. Uncle Sherlock and Dr. John are helping to find the murderer. They like to pick up kids from school." Esmond wasn't meeting anyone's gaze.

"How long have you been observing?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed and John realized that Esmond … had been paying attention to everything? He ran a hand through his hair.

"My mom told me that I shouldn't …" Esmond looked at the ground and fidgeted. "That-that I would get taken away from her if I did … but I can't help it."

"Of course not." Sherlock huffed annoyed. "What else do you know?"

Esmond looked at his Da. "I can't stop it Da. I remember everything … I'm sorry."

"What was the first thing I ever told you?" Sherlock spoke up getting everyone's attention again. Esmond bit his lip and thought for a moment.

"You … said … 'Who is this?'" Esmond bit his lip. "And then 'Ah, the child. Why are you calling me?"

"He called you?" Mycroft looked at Sherlock who nodded.

"Two years ago." Sherlock admitted. "I figured you would know."

"I … just wanted a voice to go with the pictures." Esmond looked down. "Mom was angry at me."

"I didn't know." Mycroft went and sat beside his son. "I'm sorry Esmond." He felt like … he had let his son down. And that feeling was cold … and dark … and Mycroft put his hand on his son's back.

"Can I stop doing my homework now? I've been done since the first week." Esmond looked at his Da but John started laughing causing everyone to look at him surprised.

"Dear God … another one … bloody hell …" John ran a hand through his hair.

"You should have just told me Esmond. I … understand." Mycroft ruffled his son's hair. And Esmond looked up surprised. "But I have a question for you" Mycroft looked at Sherlock making sure he had his attention too.

"Yes Da?"

"Esmond … was there a man …" Mycroft tried to think of a good way to word if for his son. He might be a Holmes but he was still seven. "A bad man that came to visit your mother? No one was allowed to be home when he came over?"

"This isn't the time to worry if your mistress was faithful." Sherlock snorted rolling his eyes.

"She would send the workers home early and maybe," hopefully, he prayed "she would send you to your room?" He was looking in his son's blue eyes and he realized Esmond was trembling.

"I-I I … you can't send me back Da! Please!" Tears came from his son's eyes as he balled his hands into fists at his sides. Mycroft watched his son alarmed. "I'll stop observing! I promise! I learn how! I'll stop remembering things! I -I please don't … I don't want to go back …"

"Esmond." Mycroft moved so he was kneeling in front of his son. "Esmond I'm not sending you anywhere. You're staying here with me and Uncle Sherlock in London. That's what you want isn't it?"

"Yes!" Esmond nodded quickly before hugging Mycroft around the shoulders tightly. "Please let me stay I'll be good. I'll keep being normal."

"Esmond I don't want you to be normal." Mycroft rubbed his son's back. "I just want you to be … you." This seemed to calm his son down slightly but he was still crying against his Da's neck.

"Is everything oka-" Everyone looked up surprised at Lestrade who entered the flat, still covered in flour. He looked at the scene in front of him. "Sorry … I heard crying and … I … sorry-" He made a move to leave again but stopped. "Wait … did he tell you?"

Mycroft held his crying son tighter. "Tell me what?"

"He said you were in danger."

XXX

"Anthea (Mycroft remembered that was the name she had given John) is in the hospital." Mycroft sighed as they all sat at the kitchen table. Sherlock, John and Lestrade. Esmond was upstairs sleeping in John's bed. "I was trying to tie up loose ends his mother left behind so that no one would come looking for him when he's older." Mycroft ignored Sherlock's snort.

"What happened to her?" John asked surprised. Even with that blackberry always in her hand he had believed she was one of Mycroft's invincible secret soldiers.

"She got shot. Nothing serious but it came with a warning." Mycroft took a drink of the cold tea, it had been warm when he had gotten it but nothing could stay warm in this sort of atmosphere. "He wants me to back off."

"Who?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"I'm guessing it's the same man that Esmond is afraid of." Mycroft took a chance to look over at Lestrade who was staring hard at the table. "There are a few possibilities of who it could be, I don't want to make a move unless I know for sure."

"Moriarty?" Sherlock asked and it seemed as though time froze. It was a name that was unwelcome to any of their minds but Mycroft knew it haunted John's and Sherlock's.

"He is a possibility." Mycroft nodded. "But he hasn't made a move against you since the pool and this man has been … had been visiting Irene since before she met us as far as I can tell."

"Do you think there's a chance Irene's accident … wasn't an accident?" John asked warily.

"We went over it." Sherlock shook his head. "Even interviewed the driver."

"It was an accident." Lestrade sighed running a hand through his hair.

"Or an extremely good cover up." John mumbled before realizing he said it out loud. "Sorry."

"It wouldn't matter either way." Mycroft sighed, "If it was an accident then fine and if it wasn't there isn't a way we would be able to prove it without a confession at this point."

"He's right." Lestrade nodded grimly.

"He always is." Sherlock mumbled darkly.

"Mycroft, this man that visited Irene." John looked up at Mycroft hesitantly, he obviously didn't want to be the one to bring this topic up. "Esmond was showing signs of abuse."

Mycroft winced as the cup he was holding cracked. He pulled his hand away and moved back as the tea spilled on the table.

"Sorry." Mycroft hissed and closed his eyes. John got up and was throwing the broken cup into the sink and grabbing a towel. He opened his eyes when someone gently grabbed his hand. He looked at Lestrade who wasn't meeting his eyes.

"John do you have some plasters?" Lestrade checked Mycroft's palm and caught the roll of plaster that John tossed him. Mycroft closed his eyes as the man bandaged his hand.

"I'm sorry John for breaking your cup." Mycroft wondered idly if Lestrade could tell his hand was shaking.

"Forget the damn cup Mycroft." Sherlock hit the table before standing up and pacing. "I won't allow this … he … "

"Sherlock." John watched his flatmate, worried.

"He's going to regret this." Sherlock clenched his fists.

"You focus on this case Sherlock." Mycroft finally spoke up. "I will focus on this." Sherlock needed to focus on the people killing children, Mycroft would focus on the threat to his family.

Sherlock sighed, running his hands through his hair. He started pacing again and John took a step back. Mycroft realized Lestrade was still holding his hand. He looked over at the man who was watching him back. Mycroft squeezed his hand before pulling his away. Lestrade looked away.

"I know I'm not officially on the case anymore but I will be here to help." Lestrade looked at John who was watching Sherlock move around in the living room. Lestrade looked over at Mycroft who was also watching Sherlock from his seat. "Or … if you … need help with Esmond … or …" He looked down at the table nervously.

When he looked back up Mycroft was watching him. He blushed under the intense gaze. He couldn't believe he kissed this man earlier … he had kissed Mycroft Bloody Holmes … and then ran away. What was he thinking? There's no way … He had tried getting back on the dating/courting/whatever wagon, it never worked. But here he was staring at a man that he had practically hated for the first year of their acquaintanceship wondering what it would be like to date/court/whatever Mycroft Holmes. He was out of his depth. There was no way … the kiss had been bloody great but that didn't mean …

There were more important things to be focusing on.

He licked his lips, "Mycroft I-"

"Would you like a ride home Detective Inspector?" Lestrade suddenly realized how late it was. He blinked. He should get home and think about this, he looked at Mycroft, he probably shouldn't take the ride … he could use his walk to think.

"That's okay reall-"

"I insist." And Mycroft's tone left little for argument. The man turned to John. "We should take our leave now, good luck."

"You too." John smiled tiredly and nodded at Lestrade. "You can stay here again if you want."

Lestrade shook his head as he watched Mycroft leave to go get Esmond from upstairs. "No, thanks, I have to go home some time." Lestrade watched Sherlock stand up and grab his violin and sit on the couch still mumbling to himself. He pretended not to notice John watching him.

"Where did you … what happened between you and Mycroft today?" John whispered and Lestrade blushed.

"Its … we … " Lestrade shook his head. "Nothing mate, call me if you need help yeah?"

"Sure." John nodded and looked up as Mycroft opened the door holding a sleeping Esmond.

"Would you mind grabbing my jacket?" Mycroft nodded his head to one of the moved chairs, his jacket on the back.

"Oh! Sure … Bye John … Sherlock." Lestrade grabbed Mycroft's jacket before following the man down the stairs and outside. There was a car waiting and the driver came out and opened the door for Mycroft. Lestrade wondered if he could get away with sitting next to the driver.

But then a hand slid into his and pulled him to the car. Lestrade looked at Mycroft, surprised, and watched the man slide into the car still holding onto his sleeping son. Lestrade sat beside him and wondered idly if he should comment about seat belts or safety. He watched as Mycroft tried to shift Esmond to a more comfortable position but seemed to be having some difficulty. He smiled.

"Here." He leaned over and helped move Esmond's legs to the side so his feet were in Lestrade's lap. Esmond mumbled groggily as he buried his head into his Da's shoulder. Mycroft relaxed, Lestrade hadn't noticed how tense he was. He looked up at the man. "That's better."

"Thank you." Mycroft smiled and Lestrade smiled back before realizing how close he was leaning to the other man. He made a move to sit back but was stopped by a hand on his neck. He blushed and gave the taller man a questioning look.

"I'm going to kiss you if that's okay." Mycroft leaned slightly forward.

Lestrade let out a small laugh. Everything was telling him that this was a bad idea, that he shouldn't do this. It was Sherlock's brother. He had just lost the mother of his child not too long ago. That he himself wasn't ready for anything like this. That … this was crazy.

"Okay."

It was kind of an odd angle to be kissing. Side by side being wary of the sleeping child in Mycroft's arms. But as their lips met Lestrade tried not to shiver at the other man's warmth. At first it was chaste, wary, testing the waters but when a tongue slid over his lip he immediately opened his mouth and let Mycroft push into him.

This had to be a bad idea. A horrible idea.

He let out a low moan as Mycroft sucked on his tongue. Lestrade wanted this. He brought his hand up warily to stroke Mycroft's cheek as they broke for air. He let out another small laugh.

"Okay."

He didn't know what this was. What was he supposed to do? Did they need to talk about this? Was there anything to talk about? Well … yes … there obviously was. Lestrade didn't just go around snogging any man dressing up like James Bond. He looked at Mycroft and loved how flushed the man looked. Still there was that nagging part in the back of his head, "I don't think this is a good idea." He didn't move away though.

"I would have to agree." Mycroft nodded causing his nose to move against Lestrade's. "Terrible."

"I … " Lestrade felt the car pull to a stop and looked out the window. They were at his flat. He looked back at Mycroft. "You probably have this all figured out." He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss against the other man's lips. "But can you give this mortal some time to think?"

Mycroft nodded and Lestrade hoped he wasn't taking this as rejection because it wasn't. But … he just needed … what the hell was he doing?

He leaned forward and kissed the man again. This time hard and urgent, what the hell? It might be the last time he had a chance to snog Sherlock Holmes' older brother, to take in the taste of tea, icing, and something that was entirely Mycroft. He let out a frustrated sigh as he released the man and got out of the car. If he didn't leave now he wouldn't want to.

"Greg." Lestrade stopped and looked at the car as Mycroft rolled down a window. Mycroft looked slightly amused. "Can I have my jacket?"

Lestrade blushed realizing he was carrying it. He walked over and handed it through the window. "S-sorry."

"See you soon." Mycroft nodded as the car pulled away and Lestrade let out a long breath watching the car go. It wasn't until he couldn't see it anymore that he turned around and went into his building.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

XXX

Three more children overnight.

They broke their pattern.

Three more children and John still didn't know how to stop it. He closed his eyes, he still hadn't gone to bed after Lestrade, Mycroft and Esmond left last night. Sherlock wasn't sleeping and for this case John felt like he needed to keep an extra eye on him.

Karl Leonard, Theodore Ralph, and Andrew Turner. Three seven year old boys ,all found in different locations, all with three verses near their bodies.

Build it up with iron and steel,  
Iron and steel, iron and steel,  
Build it up with iron and steel,  
My fair lady.

Iron and steel will bend and bow,  
Bend and bow, bend and bow,  
Iron and steel will bend and bow,  
My fair lady.

Build it up with silver and gold,  
Silver and gold, silver and gold,  
Build it up with silver and gold,  
My fair lady.

What was the person trying to do? Play a game? John felt cold at the thought, then jumped in surprise as something hot touched his hand. He looked up at Sherlock handing him a cup of coffee. They were currently holing up in Lestrade's office, it was easier to make sure Sherlock got all the notes from the men and women of Scotland Yard if he was nearby- when he wasn't running from crime scene to crime scene.

"Thanks." His voice sounded groggy as he took the cup from the taller man.

"You're late meeting Sarah." Sherlock walked past him and sat at Lestrade's desk. John looked at the time and almost spit out his coffee. Sarah was going to meet him at the flat to pick up the cupcakes since John was a little busy at the moment.

"Shit." He pulled out his phone and looked at Sherlock. "You call me if anything else happens. I should be back soon." John jumped as his phone rang.

"Sarah? Sorry I'll be there in a-"

"Is this Dr. John Watson?" John stilled.

"Yes, who is?"

"I'm sorry sir I'm calling about Esmond Adler-Holmes. I've tried to get in touch with his father but we haven't been able to reach him. You were the next contact." John gave Sherlock a confused look. It made sense that Mycroft would put him next as he was more reliable in answering his phone. What didn't make sense was the fact they couldn't get a hold of Mycroft.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry did something happen? Is he okay?" John leaned closer to Sherlock so he could listen in on the call.

"He got in a fight today at school and we need you to come pick him up." The woman on the phone sighed. "We can keep trying to reach his father-"

"I'll come pick him up." John looked at Sherlock. "I'm coming now."

"Thank you Dr. Watson." John sighed as he hung up the phone, he looked at Sherlock.

"I need to go get Esmond from school, he got in a fight and they can't get Mycroft." John shot Sherlock a worried look as he grabbed his jacket. Sherlock in turn also looked slightly worried about his brother being unavailable. "Sherlock I'm sure Mycroft's fine."

"Of course he is." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Probably off planning some government conspiracies while we speak." He stopped John from leaving by grabbing his hand. "Be careful."

John smiled before pulling away. He called Sarah while he left Scotland Yard and hailed a cab. "Sarah, its John. I'm sorry about … oh Mrs. Hudson let you in? Oh good. Sorry about that. Okay good luck."

He sighed as the cab took him to Esmond's school. That worked out better than he thought it would. He would have to find a way to thank Mrs. Hudson. He had forgotten she was coming back into town today.

Walking into Esmond's school was strange; he couldn't remember the last time he had been in a school like it. He was thankful that the office was up front and also glad to see a few Constables keeping watch over the area. He walked into the office and saw Esmond sitting in a chair looking upset with a black eye. He looked up when John came in.

"Dr. John?"

"Stay seated Mr. Adler-Holmes." A stern woman came out of the office and frowned at Esmond who crossed his arms but stayed seated. She looked at John. "A moment of your time Dr. Watson."

John quickly followed her to her office and gave Esmond a small smile before the door closed.

"I know you're not Mr. Holmes." The woman started with a sigh, "but as a family friend I was wondering if you could answer a few questions."

"I'll answer what I can." John offered her a smile but stayed standing when she moved behind her desk.

"I was wondering what his home life is like? I know he just lost his mother recently and he's a bright kid." John wondered if she knew how smart he actually was. He gave her an apologetic smile.

"I really don't think it's my place but you should know that his father loves him very much. And his uncle and I do too." John looked at her seriously. "I don't know what you think is-"

"I'm sorry that's not what I …" She raised her hand and smiled at John. "No and I know things are different from what he was used to in America."

"What was the fight about?" John asked wanted to change the subject, he didn't think it was appropriate for him to be answering those questions.

"Some of the kids were singing London Bridge." She sighed, "I'm sure you're aware of the murders …"

"Very." John nodded grimly.

"Most stay at home parents are keeping their kids home for the time being but there are parents who work, well, anyway kids were playing the game and he told them to stop." She gave John a strange look. "He told them that if they didn't stop they would bring a monster to them, and when they didn't he started to fight. Do you know what he's talking about?"

"I'm afraid I have no idea." John crossed his arms trying to think. "But I will mention it to his Da." It felt weird referring to Mycroft as Da, but considering where he was, he thought it was only appropriate.

"I'm sorry for keeping you Dr. Watson," She smiled, 'It's just that none of us expected this kind of behavior from him."

"I assure you I'm surprised as well." John ran a hand through his hair as he opened the door. "Thank you." He looked up to see Esmond was watching him back. John smiled as he got out of his seat and ready to go, he knelt in front of the boy wincing at the black eye. "That's a good one."

"It doesn't hurt so bad anymore." Esmond mumbled taking John's hand. "Can we please go now?"

"Yes." John squeezed his hand and led him out of the school in silence. It wasn't until they crossed the street in front of the school that anyone spoke.

"Where is Da?" Esmond sounded really upset and John bit his lip.

"He's just a little busy Esmond." He squeezed his hand. "You wanna tell me why you fought some kids over a game?"

"It's not a game!" Esmond looked up at John surprised. "It's not a game! That song … "

"Is it because of what's happening to the kids that died?" John squeezed his hand. He was surprised when Esmond shook his head. "What is it then?"

He shook his head again.

"The monster?" John tried but then Esmond froze and was squeezing his hand really hard. "Esmond what-"

"He always sings that song. If people sing that song then he's going to show up. He's a bad man. He's a monster. He hurt mommy." Esmond was speaking quietly and quickly, squeezing John's hand tighter. "She didn't like him. He hurt me. He hurt Mom and he's going to hurt Da and -"

"Esmond?" John got to his knees and squeezed his hands. "Esmond it's okay, it's going to be okay, no-one is going to-" He stopped as Esmond gasped and his eyes went wide, his whole body tensing. John immediately stood and spun around.

There standing across the street was Jim Moriarty.

"It's him." Esmond mumbled squeezing John's hand and shaking it. "It's him."

John looked around for a place to run, he had to get Esmond away from Moriarty. His mind was rushing with the new information. It had been a possibility that it had been him. He looked to the side but then there was something hard pressing against his back and a small click of a pistol. He grit his teeth.

"Nothing fancy doc." A low voice mumbled.

"Why hello there Doctor." Moriarty smiled as he stepped in front of John. "I see you've met Seb, he's such a good pet." Jim smiled nicely. The man, Seb, behind John pressed the gun against his back harder. Esmond let out a small whimper and John squeezed his hand, hoping to be comforting.

"What do you want?" he growled. If anything Moriarty's smile got more sinister as he laughed amused.

"Always to business so quickly." He chuckled glancing at Esmond. "I hope you aren't learning any bad manners from him Esmond, it has been so long since the last time I was able to see you." At this Moriarty put a hand on Esmond's shoulder and the boy froze stiff, squeezing John's hand as if his life depended on it. John watched as Moriarty slid his hand to Esmond's neck wrapping his thumb around it as if measuring.

"If you keep growing like this I'm going to have to use two hands!" Jim exclaimed excited. Esmond let out a small pained noise. John's eyes widened and he let out a small growl. Moriarty smirked sliding his hand away from Esmond. "Oh I but I guess we don't have time to play do we? I just wanted to say hello to my friend Johnny-boy, is that okay with you?" Moriarty paused before leaning over to Esmond and in a mock-whisper, "It was nice seeing you again Esmond, I do hope we get to see each other soon."

He stood up and smoothed out his suit with a smile. "John, do tell Sherlock hello for me. I believe he's waiting for you at home." A car pulled up and he got in and with a small wave the car pulled away. John squeezed Esmond's hand as the gun against his back pressed harder against him.

"He must pay well." John muttered angrily.

"You have no idea." And then the pressure against his back was gone, John spun around just as a group of people walked by, he cursed. He heard a small whimper and looked at Esmond who seemed to be barely holding himself together.

"Esmond it's going to be okay." John picked him up pressing the boy's head against his neck as he moved as fast as he could to get to 221B Baker Street. He rubbed Esmond's neck above his book-bag soothingly as he moved glancing around every once in a while. Though he supposed it didn't matter, Moriarty knew where he was going. He was never more thankful to see the door that led to their flat.

He ran inside, shutting the door and locking it before running up the stairs. "Sherlock!" He swung the door open and let out a breath of relief at the sight of Sherlock and Mycroft, who both looked at him in surprise.

"Da!" Esmond jumped out of John's arms and ran over to his Da. No longer carrying the kid, John's legs decided to give out, so he was very thankful for Sherlock catching him and helping him to a chair as he gasped for air.

"He's here. Moriarty." John grabbed Sherlock's hands looking up at him worried. Sherlock looked back at John sadly.

"We know."

XXX


	6. Chapter 6

XXX

A Lesson From Bohemia

Chapter 06

XXX

"He's here. Moriarty." John grabbed Sherlock's hands looking up at him worried. Sherlock looked back at John sadly.

"We know."

"You know?" John looked at Sherlock alarmed. "What has he done?"

"He used the phone." Sherlock pulled the pink phone out of his pocket. John had known the other man carried it with him since the pool. "We heard him talking to you."

John glanced over at Mycroft who was holding his son and whispering to him. Mycroft's expression was blank but John could feel the fury radiating off the other man. It sent shivers down his spine, Mycroft was pissed and John suddenly realized how glad he was to never be on the receiving end of that. The look in his eyes reminded John of war and he realized Moriarty was probably going to die this time. And it wasn't going to be a kind death.

"I'm sorry Da I couldn't stop them and now he's here and-" Esmond was holding onto his Da. "He's going to hurt you!"

"Esmond, you can see I'm here and I'm fine. What do you mean you couldn't stop them?" Mycroft ran his hand through his son's hair affectionately. He looked at Sherlock. He wouldn't be able to promise his brother that he wouldn't kill Moriarty if he got the chance. Because he would.

"The kids at school were singing … " Esmond hid his head into Mycroft's chest. "The bad song."

"He got into a fight because kids were singing the London Bridge rhyme … " John paused. "He said that the song brings the monster …" He looked at Sherlock. "The kids' murders."

"He was always singing that song." Esmond sobbed. "I don't want to hear it anymore." He put his hands over his ears shaking his head. "I don't want to hear it anymore." Mycroft made a pained face and he pressed his forehead against Esmond's as the boy looked at his Da with watery eyes.

"Esmond I need you to tell me everything." Mycroft made sure his son was looking him in the eyes. "I know it's bad and painful but if you want Da and Uncle Sherlock to make the monster go away you have to tell us everything."

Esmond shook his head. "Da … I can't … " He cried. "Mom told me I can't tell you!" He shook his head more. "I can't tell you. He can't die … he'll kill you too … "

"You forget who your Da is Esmond." Mycroft spoke seriously making his son look at him. "I kill monsters. What happened to your mom was an accident, but I want to protect you from this man. That's all he is, just a man." Mycroft looked over at John. "If you can't tell me can you tell Dr. John?"

Esmond started shaking his head but stopped and his eyes went wide. John bit his lip. Esmond looked at his Da, "I … I don't know … maybe, but you can't be here. Or Uncle Sherlock."

Sherlock scoffed but stood giving John a small touch on the shoulder. Mycroft sighed kissing his son on the forehead. "Alright, we'll be in the kitchen, is that acceptable?"

Esmond nodded slowly and Mycroft walked with Sherlock to the kitchen. He peeked around the corner to see Esmond climbing on the couch to John, letting out a few sniffles. John looked like he wanted to give the boy a hug. He sighed leaning against the counter as Sherlock took a chair.

"I don't like this Mycroft." Sherlock put his hands together and pressed his lips together. "What's his game this time?"

"It doesn't matter what it is." Mycroft glared at his brother. "It is going to end."

Sherlock frowned and he glared back, he opened his mouth to say something but stopped. Mycroft flexed his hands in frustration as he tried to hear what Esmond was telling John, but both of them were speaking too softly. Esmond was crying again.

Mycroft put a hand over his face.

"This isn't your fault." Mycroft opened one eye to look at his brother. "She didn't tell you about this. There's no way you could have known. But as it happens, it seems as though we have a common enemy."

Mycroft smirked. "So it does, thought I will tell you now that if I get to him first he will die at my hands."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and was about to reply but John came into the kitchen looking upset. He looked at Mycroft, "Mycroft … he really needs some … I don't know … someone to talk to." He ran a hand through his hair.

"What did he tell you?" Sherlock got his attention.

"From what I can tell Moriarty used to like Irene; that is, until she had Esmond." John spoke softly walking over to the sink and putting water into the kettle. "He remembers that he was nice at first but then he started to … strangle Esmond whenever he or Irene upset him. Christ." John put the kettle on the stove. "Irene told Esmond he couldn't tell you about him ever; that it would make him come back."

John leaned against the counter feeling exhausted and old. "She was really scared of him Mycroft. The last time Esmond saw Moriarty, Irene was refusing to do something for him."

"That was about six months ago." Mycroft thought about the notes Mrs. Jones had got him. He was thankful she was on her way home now. He wished Irene had gone to him for help.

"Esmond thinks that Moriarty killed Irene, and that he's going to go after you next." John poured a glass of milk. Mycroft checked to see what Esmond was doing, his son was writing on a piece of paper. He frowned but looked back at John. John sighed, "Mycroft, is there some place safe for him to … hide?"

"Yes." Mycroft knew Esmond wouldn't like it though, "When Anthea, as you know her, gets back here I can send him home with her. I believe that would be the safest-"

All three men jumped at the sound of the door downstairs slamming.

"I locked it." John looked alarmed and went to see who it was but stopped when he reached the living room. "Esmond's gone."

"Boys was that one of you?" Mrs. Hudson yelled from the first floor.

Mycroft stared blankly at where his son had been sitting.

Sherlock made an angry noise before running down the stairs, John followed quickly after.

Mycroft walked over to the couch where Esmond left his things. He pulled out his phone as he picked up a piece of paper. It had a drawing of a hanged man on it, like the kids game, underneath it was a list of letters and underneath those were some words.

Is, Am, Break, Care, Heart, Hate, Cat, and there were some scribbled out.

"Sir we lost him." Mycroft closed his eyes as the man reported.

"Find him." He hung up the phone and when he looked down he realized he had crinkled the piece of paper in his fist. John came running up the stairs out of breath.

"Mycroft, he couldn't have gotten far. We'll find him." Mycroft watched as the man went to his desk and grabbed his gun. "I just called Lestrade to help us look, Sherlock is on the phone with Hopkins, you should stay here in case-"

"I will help look for my son." Mycroft set the hangman game back down and followed John out of the flat.

XXX

Lestrade tried to process the information he had just gotten from John. Moriarty was back. Esmond had run away. He wondered how Mycroft was holding up as he weaved through traffic on his bike. Having a motorcycle was handy sometimes. Lestrade glanced around trying to see if Esmond was around.

Why had he run away?

He had thought about going over to 221B earlier that day, but he wasn't supposed to be involved in the case anymore. And he knew Sherlock would contact him if he could be useful. Plus he had to think about Mycroft and whatever was happening there. And he had thought about it. And he had wondered what Tobi would have thought. What about Gabrielle?

He had tried to have other relationships before and they never worked out for long. And he would always love his girls. He sighed as he stopped at a red light. Now wasn't the time to think about this. He looked around the area, it wasn't the best part of town. He hoped slightly that Esmond would know better than to run to this area of the city but as the light turn green he saw a very familiar mop of black curly hair.

"Shit." He mumbled as he hopped onto the pavement and turned around, causing cars to honk at him. Esmond didn't seem to notice the commotion going on behind him as he ran into an alley. Lestrade cursed again and parked his bike quickly hopping out and running after him. He didn't expect for Esmond to be stopped and hiding beside a skip, obviously thinking this would be the best hiding place.

Lestrade walked up slowly. "Esmond."

The boy's head shot up as he looked at Lestrade with wide-eyes. He got up as if he was going to make a run for it but instead winced and sat back down. He had obviously been crying.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lestrade knelt in front of him but Esmond wouldn't look at him. "Esmond, can I look at your leg?" He asked gently, not yet touching him. It had obviously damaged the boy's pride to be caught already and even more so to have been injured.

"I sprained my ankle." The small voice was hoarse. Esmond looked up at Lestrade with a serious expression. "I can't go back, if I do then he'll come after Da."

"I see." Lestrade nodded as he gently looked at the boy's ankle, it was swollen slightly. "Well I think you should take care of this before you decide to go any further." He smiled at Esmond. "Would you like to come home with me? I have ice we can put on this."

Esmond seemed to be seriously contemplating it. "What if he comes after you?" He asked softly. "I don't want that either, or Uncle Sherlock or Dr. John."

"Well, you see, I'm a part of the Queen's Constabulary." Lestrade winked, "that means she's on my side."

"But …" The American boy frowned at Lestrade.

"You'll get to ride on my motorbike?" Lestrade tried and was happy when the boy's eyes widened excitedly. He let out a sigh of relief. "C'mon wrap your arms around my neck." He carefully picked Esmond up being careful of his leg. "Okay I'm going to call your Uncle to let him know you're safe, they're worried you know."

Esmond buried his face into Lestrade's neck but stayed silent. Lestrade sighed rubbing the boy's back gently then pulling out his phone and dialling Sherlock's number. "You know I've lost some important people to me too, if you want to talk to me-" Lestrade stopped as he walked out of the alley, his bike wasn't there anymore. Esmond looked up sensing something was wrong.

And then all at once as Lestrade heard Sherlock answer his phone, Esmond gasped in surprise, there was a sharp pain on the back of his head, and everything went black.

XXX

Never before had Mycroft believed he would regret showing his son the proper way of playing hide and seek. He wiped his forehead as he walked down the street. Normally, when searching for someone, he would leave it up to his, as Sherlock put it, "minions" to do the legwork, to just keep him updated.

He had faith in his men. After all he had picked them himself.

But this was his son. He stopped at the intersection across from his son's school. He knew Esmond wasn't here. There would be no reason for his son to be here. But he was desperate. He stared at the building.

"Mycroft."

He looked at the cab that just pulled up. It was Sherlock. His little brother opened the door and he got in. "What is it?"

"You're not picking up your phone." Sherlock glared at his brother annoyed. Mycroft made a confused face and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had missed two calls from Mrs. Jones and one from Sherlock.

"Oh." Mycroft didn't know how to explain how he felt about that. He looked at Sherlock and was surprised Sherlock was giving him a sympathetic look.

"Things got complicated." Sherlock handed Mycroft his own phone.

"It's me." It was Mrs. Jones. "The situation has changed. Mr. Lestrade was able to find Esmond but now both of them have been abducted. I was able to catch it on the CCTV but we have since lost the vehicle. I will keep you updated."

Mycroft closed his eyes and handed the phone back to Sherlock. Lestrade had found Esmond and then got dragged into the whole mess.

"Get a hold of yourself Mycroft." Sherlock hissed at his older brother causing Mycroft to look at him in surprise. "Stop being an idiot."

"Ah, sorry then."

XXX

Lestrade let out a low groan as he came to. There were voices speaking above him but the rest of the world was spinning. The ground felt hard and rocky like gravel … his hands were tied behind his back. He squirmed.

"This is delightful! Two in one!" A cheery voice spoke and Lestrade opened his eyes but all he saw was a mixture of colours spinning. His mouth felt dry and there was a ringing from the back of his head. "Oh my dear Detective! I wouldn't try to move so much, wouldn't want you to injure yourself. Not that it would matter for very long of course." The man hummed.

"Boss." A voice of warning. Lestrade blinked again and above him was a man in a fit black suit, beside him was an older man, rougher but also in a suit. He looked around, there was another man that Lestrade was pretty sure he had seen on a wanted list, and then there were two more and one of them was holding Esmond Adler-Holmes up by the collar of his shirt. The kid looked like he had been in another fight, rough looking and terrified as he stared wide-eyed at the cheery man in the suit.

It dawned on Lestrade who it was. "Moriarty."

"Oh he knows who I am Seb!" Moriarty laughed, "give him a treat!" Lestrade wasn't prepared for the foot that met with his face. He groaned and cursed, he could feel the blood pouring from his probably now broken nose.

"Oh now that wasn't too nice Seb." Moriarty patted the older man in the suit on the shoulder. "This is why I don't let you play with my toys. You're just too … rough." The man giggled.

"Don't hurt Mr. Greg!" Esmond cried and tried kicking the man holding him up.

Moriarty ignored him, staring at Lestrade on the ground.

"I wasn't really planning on killing you so soon but I hadn't expected you to take yourself off the case Detective Inspector Lestrade. But then again you must be so used to disappointing people around you." Lestrade groaned as he tried to get on his knees.

"Jim." The older man huffed at Moriarty. The other man in turn sighed dramatically.

"Oh Seb do lighten up!" Moriarty glared at the other man beside him. "You know what to do. Get it done."

"What about the kid?" The man holding Esmond shook the boy a bit. Esmond let out a small whine.

"Hmm … " Moriarty tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Esmond did you want to play some more?" He walked over to the boy and the man holding him. Esmond in turn tried to move away from him.

"No! No! Please no!" He froze when Moriarty put a hand on his head.

"See Seb? He still knows the old tricks." Moriarty chuckled. Lestrade growled finally getting to his knees getting ready to tackle the man in the suit but instead the older man was there again and kicked him across the face again.

"Gah." Lestrade coughed as the man kicked his stomach after he hit the ground. "Leave the kid alone." He groaned.

"How cute Esmond, you made a friend." Moriarty sounded bored. "Someone else deal with him, it was only fun for me with his mother watching." Lestrade squirmed as the man started walking out of the building being followed by Seb. "Oh, and don't forget the fucking rhymes. Idiots." Moriarty drawled before exiting.

Then Lestrade's feet were being tied together, he growled and kicked at the man. He smirked when his foot connected with the man's jaw.

"Oi! Behave or I shoot the kid." The man holding Esmond pulled out a gun and Lestrade froze. He watched man pressed the tip of the gun against Esmond's head and the boy whimpered. The man grabbed his feet and tied them together. This time he didn't fight.

"It- it's going to be okay." Lestrade's voice was hoarse and wavering but he kept his eyes on Esmond's. "It's going to be okay." Tears fell from large blue eyes.

"Ain't that cute." One of the men muttered and suddenly Lestrade was getting dragged by his feet, his face scraping against the gravel.

"Mr. Greg!" Esmond shouted and there was a loud smacking sound, Lestrade had to twist to see the boy hit the ground.

"It's going to be okay Esmond!" Lestrade shouted before he looked down at his feet. They were tying him to some cement blocks. They were at the docks? He groaned.

"Shoot the kid." The man above him ordered and Lestrade cursed.

"No! Don't!" But then the doors to the warehouse opened and people were running in and there were gunshots. But then the Lestrade was being dragged again quickly and he looked back to see the man that had been holding his weights was on the ground, dead, and he had dropped the weights …

He took a deep a deep breath and then Lestrade was under water.

It seemed like he was sinking and it was too fast and it was so cold and dark and Esmond, oh God they shot Esmond and the world was spinning and Esmond was dead. He stopped sinking but it didn't make him feel any better. Esmond was dead. Gabrielle was dead. Tobi was dead. He was going to die.

Mycroft was going to be alone.

That startled Lestrade. He fought with the ropes air bubbles passing from his lips. Oh God he didn't want to die.

Then there was someone under the water with him. He frantically pulled at the ropes, he couldn't hold his breath any longer but it was John who was already at the base of his feet and tugging at the rope and pulling out a knife.

But Lestrade couldn't stop himself, he needed air no matter how hard he tried and he opened his mouth. And it was painful and it was cold. And Esmond was dead. And he was going to die. It hurt so much, he was drowning.

Then there was a white light.

And there was nothing.

And it was okay. Except it wasn't. It was endless and empty and slow and fast and there were no directions. Lestrade was standing or was he lying down?

"Lestrade!"

Oh.

"Lestrade!"

Someone was calling him. And a strange pressure against his chest.

"Greg!"

He opened his eyes, spitting out water and trying to gasp for air at the same time. It hurt, oh God everything hurt. He was wet, and cold.

And alive.

So alive. He took several deep breaths blinking at the lights until suddenly John Watson was above him saying something. And he was soaking wet. There were other medics too.

"Lestrade can you hear me?" Lestrade nodded.

"I can hear you John." He choked, voice drained. "I can hear you." He smiled up at his friend before he remembered. "Oh God Esmond … Esmond …"

"He's okay." John grabbed Lestrade's face making him focus on him. "Greg he's okay. Sherlock's with him and they're in the ambulance on the way to the hospital which is where you need to be. Stay with me Greg."

John was tapping the side of his face and Lestrade realized he had almost fallen asleep, but he was so tired. Everything hurt. "I'm here." He looked at John.

"Good, now let's make sure you stay that way."

XXX

"Da!" Mycroft's heart stopped at the sight of his son. Bruised and bandaged and looking so small but he was smiling at Mycroft. It seemed to take a moment for his heart to start again and then he could move. He practically ran to his son engulfing him in a tight hug, holding him tightly.

"Esmond. Esmond." Mycroft kept repeating his name. "Please don't do that again, please son."

"I'm so sorry Da." Esmond wrapped his arms around his Da tightly, he sounded like he was crying again. "I won't, I promise."

Mycroft kissed his son's forehead before realizing his vision was blurry. He blinked.

"Mycroft." Suddenly there was a tissue in front of him which he took thankfully, he wiped his eyes before looking up at Sherlock who wasn't looking at him. He helped his son sit back on the hospital bed. He placed his hand gently over Esmond's bandaged ear where a bullet had grazed it. He leaned forward and kissed Esmond's forehead again. His son gave him a small smile grabbing his hand and Mycroft smiled back.

He pulled away and wiped his eyes with the tissue again before disposing of it and looking at his brother who was now watching John talk to a Doctor outside of the room. Sherlock never was a fan of displays of emotion. "Thank you Sherlock."

"He's still out there." Sherlock whispered and Mycroft looked over at his son who was laying back in his bed sleepily, looking at the flowers next to his bed. Mycroft stood beside his brother and joined in on the John watching. The good doctor was now going through some paperwork.

"I'll stay with Esmond if you want to go check on Lestrade." Sherlock glanced at Mycroft. The older brother sighed before he glanced back at Esmond.

"I don't know if I should." Mycroft admitted.

"He almost died." Sherlock offered.

"I know." Mycroft closed his eyes trying not to think about it. "What room is he in?"

"294." Sherlock moved to sit beside Esmond's bed, he was asleep now. They were going to keep him the night for observation. "He was sleeping when I left."

Mycroft nodded at his little brother before leaving the room. He walked down the hall flexing his hand, wishing he hadn't left his umbrella in 221B. It made him feel more stable. Reminded him of what his job was, who he was. It didn't take long to find Lestrade's room, he hesitated before going inside.

There was a woman there putting flowers beside the bed. Her name was Sally Donovan if he remembered correctly, which he always did. She turned to look at the door and looked surprised when she saw Mycroft. He had introduced himself to her a few years ago but since then he had never felt the need to converse with her, he didn't appreciate her view of Sherlock very much but he knew she respected Lestrade.

"He's not awake." Mycroft was slightly surprised she spoke to him.

"I'm sorry, I'll come back later." Mycroft realized she must have wanted some time with her boss. He turned to leave but was stopped by a small hand.

"I was just leaving." She sounded tired and worried. "Keep an eye on him yeah? Isn't that what you do? He was supposed to be on vacation." She almost sounded aggravated but there was no heat behind it.

"I will." Mycroft nodded. "After all, he did save my son's life."

Her eyes widened at that. He wondered if she was more surprised over the fact that a Holmes had procreated or that there was a poor child in the world related to Sherlock Holmes. He smirked at her and she blushed slightly.

"If he wakes up let him know to take it easy." She left quickly after that. Mycroft wondered idly if she had feelings for Lestrade. But he quickly pushed it away and walked over to the bed where Lestrade was sleeping. Even though he was sleeping the other man looked tired. He didn't look peaceful.

Mycroft looked at the readings on the machines around his bed. They had said he was going to be alright but keeping him for observation. After all, the man had almost drowned. The thought made Mycroft feel cold and he found himself putting his hand over Lestrade's just to make sure the man lying in front of him was real. It was preposterous, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel a little bit of relief at the warmth of the man's hands.

He almost jumped in surprise when the hand squeezed his.

"Hey." Lestrade's voice was hoarse and Mycroft let go of his hand to make him a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table. He helped Lestrade sit up before handing it to him. "Ugh, not more water, anything stronger?" He laughed hoarsely taking a few sips.

Mycroft smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

"Esmond's alright?" Lestrade rubbed his face before putting the cup down on the table. Mycroft nodded.

"He's sleeping, Sherlock is with him. And I didn't mean to wake you up." He admitted, not really knowing what else to do. "I'll let you get back to resting then …"

"Oh no you don't." Lestrade grabbed Mycroft's arm keeping him from leaving before letting out a groan. "Jesus this hurts more than I thought it would." Mycroft made a face before moving back and gently pressing Lestrade back so he was lying against the pillows. Lestrade looked up at him with a smile.

"Miss Donovan was here earlier, she says you need to take it easy." Mycroft tapped Lestrade's hand twice before Lestrade grabbed his hand.

"She worries." Lestrade admitted.

Mycroft smiled and they stayed like that for a little while. Silent, holding hands, and it was okay. For now at least. Moriarty was still out there. He had to pay.

"It's funny." Lestrade let out a small chuckle. "I thought about it and I had a nice little speech to give you the next time I saw you." He rubbed his thumbs over Mycroft's knuckles.

"Oh?" Mycroft asked, his heart suddenly felt like it was trying to escape his chest. "Can I have it now?"

"Don't bloody remember all of it." Lestrade laughed, "I'm sure it involved something about failed relationships and how none of this is going to work. Because really this …"

"Ah." Mycroft frowned.

"I still want to try this." Lestrade squeezed his hand, he laughed before looking at Mycroft warily. "But I mean, I'm me … and well you're you! And my God you're Sherlock Holmes' brother."

"I really would rather you don't mention my brother when you … put me off." Mycroft sighed, he didn't like the feeling that came over him. He honestly didn't understand why Lestrade kept laughing. Lestrade looked at him surprised.

"Put you off?" Lestrade blinked before groaning. "Bugger. I'm no good at this. Feels like a bloody proposal but I feel like I barely know you." Mycroft blushed.

"You are really bad at this." He smirked.

"Just kiss me already." Lestrade smirked back. "Before I ruin the moment totally."

"Too late." Mycroft let out a small chuckle leaning over Lestrade. "I'm afraid you've ruined it completely." But he gently kissed the man on the lips before pulling back. Lestrade huffed.

"Was hoping for a little more than that." He grinned embarrassed. Mycroft decided he rather liked the pink flush on Lestrade's cheeks.

"You should be resting." Mycroft tried to look serious but his smirk seemed too permanent.

"I don't even know what that means." Lestrade reached up and grabbed Mycroft's tie. "I mean, I'm on holiday and I still end up in the hospital." He pulled the taller man down and kissed him hard. He licked his tongue against Mycroft's lips before setting to explore the other man's mouth. He groaned at the taste of tea, always tea, and mint. Mycroft then took over the kiss and Lestrade moved his free hand to the back of the other man's neck. Mycroft moved his arms so they were on either side of Lestrade so he can lean on them as they kissed.

"I'm thinking you just don't know how to take a holiday." He mumbled against Lestrade's lips.

"You might be right." Lestrade smiled as Mycroft kissed him again. He couldn't believe it. It seemed so … weird. "This is weird."

"You are really horrible at this." Mycroft stood up giving Lestrade an annoyed look making the other man laugh.

"We'll you're James Bond." Lestrade rolled his eyes.

"Does that make you a Bond girl?" Mycroft smiles as Lestrade yawns. "You need to rest."

"I can do that when I'm dead." Lestrade chuckles until he notices Mycroft's expression. "Too soon?"

"Yes." Mycroft glares at Lestrade slightly and then in a light voice. "You could have died today. Esmond could have died."

"But we didn't. Brave lad you have." Lestrade grabbed Mycroft's hands again.

"I would have been alone." Mycroft blinked. He didn't normally think about what if's and could be's but the almost reality hit him hard. He blinked again. He had always been alone. Why would it matter now?

Except it did matter.

"C'mon get up." Mycroft looked down at Lestrade surprised. The man had scooted over and was patting the side of his bed.

"Don't be ridiculous." Mycroft tried to regain his composure but Lestrade tugged on his arm. "Visiting hours are almost over."

"Then you better hurry up." Lestrade tugged harder until Mycroft sighed, the taller man looked around as if expecting a crowd of people to watching them. He awkwardly crawled onto the bed and lay on his side. Lestrade grinned.

"Didn't think you would do it." Lestrade admitted with a sly smile. "Must like me a bit then."

"Just a bit." Mycroft smiled but shifted uncomfortably.

"You're not alone." Lestrade looked at the taller man seriously, putting his hand on Mycroft's cheek.. "You got Esmond, Sherlock, John and that beautiful bloody secretary."

Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"She is you cheeky bastard." Lestrade smirked at Mycroft. "And you got me now too yeah?"

"Thank you." Mycroft put his hand over Lestrade's. "Though normally I don't get into bed after the first date."

"Gonna make me work for it eh?" Lestrade laughed and kissed Mycroft before lying back against the pillows. "Do you think Esmond will be okay with this?" He looked up at the other man nervously.

Mycroft tapped Lestrade's hands twice. "He will tell us, he is very opinionated; much like his mother. But I think he likes you."

"Ha." Lestrade smiled but yawned again. "Sherlock?"

"I hope he will not become a popular subject when we are in bed together." Mycroft made an annoyed sound, he watched Lestrade chuckle with his eyes closed. "You're tired. I should go make sure Esmond and Sherlock haven't killed each other."

"You left them alone together?" Lestrade sounded amused with his eyes closed.

"Good night Inspector, please get some rest." Mycroft kissed Lestrade's forehead before he got out of the bed. He straightened up his suit.

"Good night Mycroft." Lestrade watched him with wary eyes. "Next time we're in bed together I expect a good shag."

"I'll see what I can do." Mycroft smirked before leaving the room. He walked straight over to Esmond's room. He stopped when he saw Sherlock and Detective Inspector Hopkins talking outside the room. Sherlock looked over at him and stood up straighter and motioned for Hopkins to stop.

"Mycroft, John and I are leaving." Sherlock seemed irritated. Obviously Hopkins was losing points.

"We're keeping people here to keep guard over your son and the Detective Inspector." Hopkins nodded at Mycroft. "You can have faith that we'll keep them safe." Mycroft realized Hopkins hadn't noticed the men in suits hanging around the hospital.

"Thank you Detective Inspector." Mycroft offered a fake smile at Hopkins before stepping into Esmond's room. His son was sleeping and John was tucking him into the bed.

"Nice of you to get both of them their own rooms." John smiled at Mycroft. "And I hope those men aren't the ones that were supposed to be watching Esmond before." 'When he ran away' was left unsaid. Mycroft smirked, John was refreshing.

"They are not." Mycroft nodded. "And I will have to thank … Anthea" (Mycroft was wondering how much longer he would have to call Mrs. Jones that, surely John's clearance was due for a change) "for the private rooms."

"I do hope you and Lestrade didn't shag while in the hospital. It is frowned upon." John teased and Mycroft blushed.

"I'll have you know I passed at least two doctors, three nurses and a porter that have been using this hospital for indecent activities." Mycroft stated matter of factly.

"Hopefully not all together." John chuckled. "Are you staying the night? I'm sure you could get them to set up something for you."

"No I will have to rely on my men. I have to return to my job." Mycroft suddenly missed his umbrella again. "I will return in the morning. You wouldn't happen to know … "

"He likes his coffee black and his breakfast unhealthy." John smirked at Mycroft. "He'll probably appreciate it over what the hospital will give him and then I'm sure they'll let both Lestrade and Esmond go … you were wondering what Lestrade liked for breakfast right?"

"You were right doctor." Mycroft went over to his son's bed. "Thank you. I will see you tomorrow."

"Try to get some rest." John let out a tired chuckle before patting Mycroft on the shoulder.

"You too."

XXX

"Mr. Greg!" Lestrade smiled as he slipped into Esmond's room. He thought he would never get out of his room with the nurses and the men in black watching. And the hospital bed had done a number on his back. He winced as he slid into the chair beside Esmond's bed.

"Mornin' kid." Lestrade patted Esmond's bed. "Sleep well?"

"Not really." Esmond admitted messing with his blanket. "You?"

"Same." Lestrade smiled. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you're okay too." Esmond looked at Lestrade. "Da was really worried."

"Yeah?" The Detective Inspector raised an eyebrow with a small blush.

"He likes you." Esmond smiled at Lestrade. "He told me so."

"Did he now?" Lestrade grinned reaching over to mess with Esmond's hair. "I like your Da too."

"I'm glad I was worried he didn't have any friends." Esmond admitted. He looked up as there was some commotion outside the room and people ran past. "Are you his friend?"

"I would like to think so." Lestrade made a thoughtful face. He looked at the door when there was some yelling, he wondered idly if there had been an accident. He looked back at Esmond feeling slightly nervous. "Would you mind if we became more than friends?"

"More than friends?" Esmond made a face. "Like what?"

Lestrade blushed trying to think of a way to put it. He wondered if Mycroft would be mad that he was bringing it up without him. "Sweethearts?" Wasn't that what the taller man had called it before?

Esmond made a face. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Sometimes it's what grown-ups do?" Lestrade offered squirming slightly.

"So you want to be my Da's girlfriend?" Esmond gave Lestrade a confused look before realization seem to hit him. "Oh! Like the Petersons!"

"The Petersons?" Lestrade raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah Mr. Peterson and Mr. Peterson. They were Mom's friends. I liked them a lot." Esmond smiled. "They were funny and liked to hold hands."

"Then I suppose so, I would like to hold your Da's hand." Lestrade laughed holding out his hand to Esmond. The boy grabbed his hand and inspected it. He tried not to laugh at the serious face Esmond had as he looked at Lestrade's fingertips.

"Okay." Esmond nodded with a smile. "If you really want to, I guess you can."

Lestrade chuckled, "Thanks." He turned and frowned as there was more yelling. "I'm going to go see what's going o-" but before he got up from the chair the door opened and Sherlock Holmes came in and looked around, covered in blood.

"Is everyone okay?" He asked looking between the both of them.

"Yeah- Sherlock! What's going on?" Lestrade got up and moved to Sherlock. Esmond was looking at his Uncle, shocked. "Whose blood is that?"

"Mycroft's been shot."

XXX


	7. Chapter 7

XXX

Chapter 07

XXX

"Yeah- Sherlock! What's going on?" Lestrade got up and moved to Sherlock. Esmond was looking at his Uncle, shocked. "Whose blood is that?"

"Mycroft's been shot." Sherlock's mouth was in a tight thin line and he looked pale. Lestrade touched his shoulder gently but Sherlock shook it off with a shrug and went over to Esmond.

"What happened to Da?" Esmond asked his Uncle as Sherlock helped him out of the bed. "Where are we going? Is he okay?"

"I'm sorry Esmond you have to come with me." Lestrade almost jumped as Mycroft's secretary appeared beside him. Her right wrist was in a cast and her expression serious. Sherlock froze and Esmond shook his head.

"No! I want my Da! Where is he?" The small boy pulled away from Sherlock angrily.

"Esmond you have to." Sherlock tried to grab Esmond again but the boy moved to hide behind Lestrade.

"No! Where's Da! He's dead, isn't he?" Esmond cried and Lestrade looked up at Sherlock not knowing what to do. It couldn't be true. Mycroft couldn't be dead.

"He's not dead." The woman John called Anthea spoke up giving Sherlock a firm look before looking over at Esmond. "He isn't dead Esmond." She knelt slightly and Lestrade watched her transform from soldier to mother so quickly he blinked a few times. It still didn't beat the feeling of flat relief that came over him from those words.

"I want to see him." The boy mumbled holding onto Lestrade's leg.

"You can't right now." Anthea spoke softly. "But your Da gave me an order to protect you. I have to obey orders. You understand this, right?" Esmond's grip tightened on Lestrade's leg. The Detective Inspector looked over at Sherlock who was staring at the floor so he looked back at the woman who was watching Esmond.

He looked back at the blood stains on Sherlock's shirt. Mycroft wasn't dead. He was shot. But Esmond couldn't see him; in fact they wanted to move Esmond to a safe location. So it didn't look good. Mycroft wasn't dead … yet. Lestrade's throat felt tight. He looked behind him and put a hand on Esmond's head causing the boy to look up at him teary eyed.

"Esmond you should go with her." Esmond was about the shake his head and protest but Lestrade smiled at him. "Go with her like your Da wanted and I'll go check on him for you." Esmond looked up at him frowning.

"I'll give him my number so he can call me." Anthea smiled at Esmond causing him to look at her. The boy reluctantly let go of Lestrade's legs and looked up at Sherlock who just nodded, so he walked over to Anthea and took her hand. She smiled and stood up handing Lestrade a card with her injured hand which he took.

"I will call." Lestrade he offered a wary smile as he looked at Esmond. "Promise."

"Good luck." Anthea glanced at Sherlock before leaving.

"Sherlock." Lestrade stopped the other man from following them out of the room. Silver eyes met his. "How can I help?"

"You should be resting." Sherlock pulled from his hold and left the room but Lestrade followed after him.

"Fuck that." Lestrade stopped Sherlock again.

"You have a promise to keep Lestrade." Sherlock glared at him flicking the card in Lestrade's hand. "And so do I."

"Mr. Lestrade!" Greg turned as a nurse came up to him. "What are you doing out of your room? I've been looking for you." He blinked at her before turning to look at Sherlock again but the other man was already gone.

"I'm sure you have people that need that room more than I do." Lestrade sighed at the nurse, "Wait I need to know about someone else! A man was shot … is he here?"

"Your friend is in surgery." The nurse frowned. "Let me release you properly and you can go to the waiting room but … it doesn't look good."

Lestrade closed his eyes. "Where was he shot?"

"I don't know all the details." His nurse admitted. "Do you want me to-?"

"No, just get me my clothes and show me where I can find out." Lestrade hoped he sounded calm.

XXX

Shot in the chest, too close to the heart. Lestrade buried his face in his hands. Shot in the chest and four hours later still in surgery. They had almost lost him twice but he was fighting. He looked up as a man coughed. It was one of the men in suits that had been walking around the hospital, he had a cup of coffee.

"Thanks?" Lestrade took it hesitantly. The man just nodded, patted Lestrade on the shoulder and then continued his way. The Detective Inspector blinked a few times watching the man leave before taking a sip.

Well that was bloody weird, he almost wanted to laugh about it. Except, he looked up at the nurses' station, he couldn't even bring himself to smile at a time like this.

All he could think about was Mycroft. Would he make it? What would happen if he didn't? What about Esmond? Sherlock? Mycroft had to survive. Lestrade took another sip of his coffee. Hadn't he been in this situation before? He thought bitterly.

Except by the time he had arrived at the hospital for his wife and daughter they both had already died. He blinked as his face seemed to be warming up. Mycroft had to make it.

The man honestly couldn't have had dying in his schedule.

By the time John had come in to check on him it had been another two hours and Mycroft had crashed for another time but seemed to be hanging on to life.

"If I can survive a hit like that then he certainly can." John gave Lestrade a tired smile. Lestrade tried to smile back. "From what I hear, they think he's going to make it. If he hadn't been shot so close to the hospital it wouldn't be so positive. But we won't know for sure … the first night is always important. And the healing process afterwards is going to be long."

"I don't want to …" Lestrade waved his hand in front of himself before covering his face with it. "I want him to live John."

"I would be worried if you didn't." John hit his shoulder against Lestrade's. "There's nothing you can do Lestrade."

"There should be." Lestrade's voice broke as he looked at John.

"This isn't your fault." John tried again.

"John." Lestrade shook his head. "Please … I need … just don't."

John gave Lestrade a sympathetic look when his phone beeped. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. "I need to go back to the flat … do you … "

"I have to go." Lestrade stood up looking at John. "I can't stay here not doing anything. I have to do something."

"I think Sherlock will be very happy to have you help." John admitted standing. "Hopkins … is not his favorite person at the moment."

"He can't be that bad." Lestrade was about to argue but didn't at the look on John's face, apparently yes, it was, that bad. "One second." He saw the man that had given him the coffee earlier coming around the corner. He quickly went over to him. "Hey."

"Can I assist you with anything sir?" The man asked quickly.

"Can you keep me updated on him? And I mean anything and everything." Lestrade looked for a pen to write down his number.

"Of course sir. I already have your number sir." The man smiled. "Please take care of yourself sir. There's no one watching you or young Mr. Holmes. We've been spread out."

"Am I normally privy to this information?" Lestrade raised an eyebrow.

"I just wanted you to know that back up might take a lot longer if you're going to need it." The man nodded. "I'll keep you updated."

"Thanks mate." Lestrade quickly went back to John.

"Who was that?" John asked as they made their way out of the hospital.

"He's been keeping an eye on me since I got to the hospital. He's going to keep me updated on Mycroft's condition." Lestrade double checked to make sure his phone was on and not on silent. He quickly sent a text to Anthea.

/Going to help Sherlock and John now. Mycroft's still in surgery -GL/ He frowned as he sent it. He hoped Esmond was doing alright.

He looked at John. "So what have I missed?"

XXX

Lestrade stared at what used to be the sitting room of John and Sherlock's flat. It was now covered in maps, pictures, newspapers and books. The largest wall had writing all over it and a drawing of a hangman, like the kids game. Beside it were the names of the kids that had been killed and there were more names Lestrade noted sadly but he noticed each of their names the first letter of the first and last name were circled.

"What is this?" He asked John when he noticed his, Esmond's, Irene Adler's and Mycroft's names on it as well. Mycroft's looked like it had just been painted on the wall.

"Moriarty was leaving a Message to Sherlock through the initials of the children that were being killed." John looked at the wall with a frown. "He figured it out when he was at the hospital and watching Esmond play the game. You take names of people you know, friends, and create messages using their initials."

"Why is my name here?" He looked at John.

"Irene was technically the first murder." John started walking around the room. "Then the rest started, you and Esmond were supposed to be killed but you were saved. The next day the men that had been captured had all been murdered in their cells. He was obviously mad they had messed up his message to Sherlock."

"How can you tell their initials are meant for the message?" Lestrade asked trying to process it all. "Isn't it a bit much?"

"The London Bridge verses." John and Lestrade looked over at Sherlock who walked into the room. "Every murder that had a verse is one that he had arranged."

"So he isn't going to attack the bridges?" Lestrade ran a hand through his hair before his phone beeped. He looked at it.

/Out of Surgery/

He let out a sigh of relief. "Mycroft is out of surgery."

Sherlock nodded at the news but went right back to catching Lestrade up. "I wouldn't assume that the bridges are safe. Hopkins seems to be useful guarding them for now."

"But why is he doing this?" Lestrade looked between John and Sherlock. Neither of them said anything. Lestrade's eyes travelled to the message under the hang man.

_ust ho_ many hearts can I burn until I get yours Sherlock Holmes?

He looked over at John again who was making tea. Sherlock was watching him. Lestrade wondered idly how Sherlock was even able to let John out of the flat? It was obvious if Sherlock had gotten the message right (which Lestrade would bet he did) that John was supposed to be the final target. Thought he supposed John wouldn't settle for house-arrest and if anything staying in one place made him an easier target.

"What can I do?" He asked instead. John's and Sherlock's lips twitched at the question. Sherlock let out a sigh and started looking at all of the notes spread around the room instead of answering though. John came over and handed Lestrade a cup of tea.

"I have no bloody idea." John offered a wary smiled before walking over and giving Sherlock a cup.

"His next move will obviously be against John and he hasn't made any more puzzles or left any clues he wants me to solve." Sherlock started talking as he walked over all the details on the floor to look out of the window. "Or he could always go back and try to get you or Esmond again. I doubt he would allow anything to go unfinished."

"Is Mycroft safe at the hospital?" Lestrade pulled out his cell, no update.

"We don't even know if he's going to live." Sherlock said quietly looking at his cup of tea.

"What if he get impatient and tries to go after you?" Lestrade quickly changed the subject.

"I can only hope." Sherlock scoffed.

"Sherlock." John's tone was warning.

"If he goes after me then it is the end. Only one of us will be the victor." Sherlock was still looking out the window. "Either I will take him down and rid the world of his hand, or he will take me down and no longer target any of you."

"He might." Lestrade sighed looking at the wall of names on the wall. "Doesn't seem like he had much reason for anything."

Sherlock smirked at Lestrade for a second before looking back out of the window. "Lestrade you are truly refreshing. If this goes on any longer I might just ask dear old Jim to put me out of my misery from dealing with Detective Inspector Hopkins."

Lestrade let out a small chuckle. "Is he really that bad?"

"It's like dealing with you a few years ago. Complete idiot." Sherlock sighed leaving the window.

"Gee thanks."

"Well you had some hope." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Hopkins on the other hand reminds me of Anderson. I want to send him off to an island with all the other little Andersons so they can live blissfully ignorant lives and stop getting in my way."

Lestrade tried his hardest not to imagine it.

John just let out a chuckle and shook his head before heading out of the door.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John.

"Need a jumper." John rolled his eyes. "Now that we're not running around I'm starting to notice that it's rather cold in here." He smiled before going up to his room. Now that John had said something he noticed that the apartment seemed to be the same temperature it was outside.

"I can think better when it's cold." Sherlock mumbled before sitting on top of a chair that had newspapers in it.

"Sherlock are you okay?" Lestrade couldn't help but ask now that he had a moment alone with the younger Holmes.

Sherlock glared at him for having the audacity to even ask such a question. "What does it matter? Why does everyone ask me that? Will the way I feel matter to the case at all?" Lestrade blinked at the sudden anger directed at him, he realized Sherlock probably needed to vent.

"W-well no but …"

"How do you think I'm feeling Lestrade? This morning I was right beside my brother when he got shot and now I know John is the last target for this game. How do you think I feel now that I know that my nephew lost his mother as part of it! Will any of it matter? What matters is that this ends!" Sherlock was standing in front of Lestrade now. "And if I start doing something as stupid as focusing on how I feel, Lestrade, then more people will just die."

"Sherlock I'm sorry I was just-" Lestrade held up a hand in surrender, he hadn't seen Sherlock blow up like this before but before he could finish apologizing there was a thud from upstairs.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he was suddenly running up the stairs. Lestrade cursed, setting down his cup before following after.

"John!" Sherlock slammed into the door, it was locked. It was silent in the room. "Dammit!" Sherlock took a breath before hitting the door again but this time it opened up to the empty room. Lestrade ran in with him. John's window leading to the fire escape was open. He quickly ran over but there was nothing out there.

"Sherlock-" he turned around to see Sherlock holding a piece of paper. "What is that?"

"That last rhyme." Sherlock handed it to Lestrade.

"Then we must chain him up to a post,  
To a post, to a post,  
Then we must chain him up to a post,  
My Dear Sherlock."

Lestrade looked up at Sherlock. "I don't remember this verse."

"He's been using a version from the 17th century, more verses than the more recent one but that doesn't matter!" Sherlock spoke fast, thinking. His eyes widened. "The bridge!"

"What?" Lestrade followed Sherlock as they ran out of the flat and down the stairs. "Sherlock wait dammit!"

Sherlock stopped and waited for Lestrade. "We need to get to the London Bridge!"

"We need to call the police!" Lestrade pulled out his cell.

"We don't have time!" Sherlock yelled and was about to run from Lestrade but he caught him by the arm.

"Call Hopkins!" He handed the phone to Sherlock before running over to a group of kids with their motorcycles. "Oi!" He was slightly thankful he had seen one of his old ID's in Sherlock's flat and grabbed it. He pulled it out. "Gonna need one of your bikes."

He would probably get hell for this later.

"What?" One of the guys looked at him confused.

"Here mate just take this to Scotland Yard tomorrow and you'll get your bike back." Lestrade tossed him his ID and took the bike, hopping on and driving over to Sherlock who quickly hopped on the back while talking on the phone.

"Lestrade's with me, we will be there in 10 minutes." Sherlock hung up the phone and put it in Lestrade's pocket before wrapping his arms around the older man's waist. Lestrade hoped they could get there in that time … and that they didn't get into any wrecks on the way.

He pulled off and quickly weaved through traffic. He had almost forgot what it was like to drive with another set of weight on a motorcycle with him but Sherlock seemed to have enough experience to know when to lean and which way.

"Sorry!" He yelled at some pedestrians as they hopped onto the pavement when the traffic started to stop. They had to get there and save John.

They made it to the bridge just as Hopkins and his crew were arriving as well but instead of stopping with them Lestrade drove onto the bridge. It seemed … like nothing was wrong. As he pulled to a stop in the middle of the bridge they looked around, people giving them weird looks. John was nowhere to be seen. Moriarty was nowhere to be seen. Sherlock hopped off of the bike and ran to the edge of the bridge and looked down.

Lestrade ran to the other side.

Nothing.

"There's nothing here!" Lestrade looked over at Sherlock who had his hands over his ears and was mumbling to himself. He looked over at the police setting up barriers and Hopkins running over to them.

"What's going on? Don't we need to get off the bridge?" The younger man looked around confused.

"Yes keep everyone away." Lestrade was watching Sherlock. "We don't know what's going to happen."

"Do you think he's going to blow it up?" Hopkins asked and Lestrade felt very irritated with the man.

"Evacuate the bridge you twat!" He yelled at the younger man. Hopkins jumped and started shouting orders into his radio.

"Lestrade." Sherlock was beside him in an instant. "Tower and Southwark Bridge." Lestrade's eyes widened. Of course, there were other bridges also considered to be the London Bridge. The most assumed one would be the Tower Bridge but-

"Which one?" He asked quietly.

"Tower!" Sherlock put a hand over his face. "I should have known! I'm such an idiot!" Lestrade ran over to the bike hoping on and waiting for Sherlock to do the same. "Hurry Lestrade!"

"Wait!" Hopkins shouted at them.

Lestrade wondered idly, as he pulled away, if he would have time to call Hopkins when they got there. This time everything seemed to be happening so fast, they were suddenly at the Tower Bridge but Lestrade couldn't remember the route he had even taken them to get there.

He stopped this time at the entrance to the bridge. People were walking around on the bridge too like it was any other day. "Sherlock."

"No it has to be this one." Sherlock got off the bike and ran onto the bridge. Lestrade swore jumping off of the bike and following after him. His phone beeped and he pulled it out.

/Back in surgery/

Lestrade tried not to trip as he ran forward blinking at the text. He was about to throw his phone back into his pocket and try to focus on the task at hand but another text came up that had him stopping in his tracts.

/At Tower Bridge, where are you?/ It was from Anthea. Lestrade's heart was pounding, he was about to shout at Sherlock but when he looked up Sherlock wasn't there. He quickly called the number.

"Are you here?" She asked agitated.

"Why are you here?" He shouted. "Please tell me you don't have Esmond! Get off the bridge!"

The girl on the other side of the line sucked in a sharp breath. "You didn't text me …? Shit." There was some noises, she was in a car. Lestrade started looking around. "I got a text to come pick you up and to text you when I got to the Tower Bridge." He heard Esmond talking in the background.

"I didn't send you a text!" Lestrade shouted frantically. "Both of you need to get off of the bridge now!"

"Right." And then she hung up. Lestrade looked around frantically seeing if he could see them but now people were shouting and yelling and running to get off of the bridge. People were even leaving their cars. Lestrade moved out of the way as he tried to move the opposite way.

Then he saw them.

John Watson was tied to one of the supports of the bridge. He was shouting at Sherlock who had a gun pointed at someone. Lestrade looked across the bridge and saw Moriarty wave and his mouth was moving but Lestrade was too far away.

He jumped as there was a loud shot and the gun was out of Sherlock's hand and he was holding it to his chest. The other guy, Seb, was here! Lestrade looked around to see where the shot came from but there was a few more from farther down the bridge. Oh God, Anthea and Esmond. He could just make her out shooting her gun, he followed her line of sight just in time to see Seb fall over.

"No!" Moriarty's yell was heard over the screams. Lestrade looked over at him as he kicked Sherlock to the ground. "You idiot, he had the-!"

Lestrade's eyes widened as explosions gave out from underneath the bridge. And then it was moving and shaking as he held onto the railing for support.

"John!" Lestrade looked over to where the doctor had been. Or where he thought he had been. Everything was moving and there were people screaming and then there were more explosions. Each of the towers caught on flames.

It took Lestrade a moment, as he looked up at the towers, to realize he was falling.

Then he hit the cold water of the Thames and everything went black.

XXX

"Daddy!" Lestrade blinked a few times before smiling and picking up his baby girl. Her long hair moving with the wind. She was wearing his favorite dress.

"Well don't you look lovely." He kissed her cheek causing her to giggle.

"Dad your face is scratchy!" He giggled trying to get away from him. He laughed putting her on the ground but she took his hand and started pulling him. "Let's go Daddy!"

"Gab wait a second!" Lestrade laughed, "Where's your mother?"

"Right here." Lestrade stopped but smiled at the sight of his wife. She looked like she had just got home from work.

"I've missed you." He smiled before frowning. He blinked. Why had he said that? He blinked again as his vision went blurry, why was he crying?

Tobi just smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You've had a long day."

"Y-yeah." Lestrade wiped at his eyes before smiling at them. Gabrielle just smiled right back and went to her mother. He realized he was really tired, though he couldn't remember working that hard. "I think I'm going to get some rest."

"No." Tobi shook her head with a sad smile. "You don't want to go to sleep Greg. You need to stay awake."

Lestrade gave her a confused look. He was really tired. In fact he felt really heavy. "Why not?" He smiled at his wife and looked down at his daughter but Gabrielle wasn't smiling. "Gabby?"

"You can't go to sleep Daddy." His little girl looked sad.

"What's going on?" Lestrade reached out to touch Gabrielle's hair but suddenly she was too far away for him to reach. He looked up at Tobi who was beside her. Something was off … he was so confused. He was so tired. "I'm so tired."

"Hurry! Get him out of the water!"

Lestrade looked around as a voice seemed to come out of nowhere. "Who is that?"

"It was nice seeing you again Greg." Tobi smiled at him.

"Wait! What does that mean?" He wanted to chase after them but he couldn't move and his clothes were soaking wet. Wasn't he dry before? "Tobi! Gabrielle! Please don't leave me again!" He cried out after them.

Oh.

That's right.

He looked over at them wide-eyed. Tobi smiled as she picked up Gabrielle who smiled at her dad. "Take care of yourself Greg."

Lestrade gasp for air as the scenery changed suddenly and everything was dark. There was noise, so much noise and flashing lights and people. He felt cold and wet and everything hurt.

"Stay with us! We're going to get you to the hospital!" Someone was yelling above him. Lestrade nodded letting them know he could hear them.

He was alive.

XXX

One Month Later

XXX

"And if you sign here you're free to go home." The nurse smiled at him. "Everyone's sad to see you go." She laughed.

He laughed back. "Oh you'll still see me. Gotta keep track of the guy you wish was leaving today."

"I think some of the nurses are going to start sedating him … again." She pursed her lips with a small grin.

"Now we can't have that." He laughed.

"Mr. Greg!"

Lestrade jumped and turned around just as Esmond wrapped his arms around his waist. He laughed patting the boy's head with his good arm. "Hey kiddo."

"Esmond do be careful." Lestrade looked up as Mycroft walked over, being followed by Anthea and her blackberry. He smiled. Mycroft was walking with a cane instead of an umbrella but he looked a lot better. He had got out of the hospital earlier than the doctors had wanted but apparently he was completing his physical rehabilitation at work. Being shot in the heart did have its effects.

Lestrade was lucky. When he had been pulled from the river he had a bad concussion, broken arm in two places and a few fractured ribs. He was going to be stuck in a cast for a while but everything else was healing nicely.

John had been in a coma until about a week ago. He had a broken arm as well and his old war injuries were inflamed and acting up but otherwise he was going to be fine. He was sharing a room with the whiniest patient in the entire hospital. Sherlock had not been the luckiest of the bunch. It had taken the search team hours to find him, with little hope. They had found him though and he was alive.

Alive with two broken leg, a fractured clavicle and water damage to his lungs. But alive nonetheless. And on a mission to annoy everyone in the hospital until they figured out how to make him heal faster … or killed him.

"Hey Mycroft." Lestrade smiled as the man limped his way over to him. He leaned his head up to meet the other man's lips. He had been surprised that Mycroft had been so willing to kiss him in front of the hospital staff. He smiled as Esmond made choking noises.

"You guys are so gross." The boy complained. "I'm going to go to Uncle Sherlock's room." With that he started moving down the hall but Anthea let out a laugh and followed after him.

"They seemed to be getting along better." Lestrade blushed slightly as Mycroft held his good hand and they walked slowly after them.

"Apparently saving him from a falling bridge has made her a sort of superhero in his eyes." Mycroft squeezed Lestrade's hand. "Don't worry, I'm sure he still likes you too."

Lestrade snorted. "Thanks, you know just what to say."

"And he's staying with Anthea tonight." Mycroft smiled as Lestrade stopped. He blushed brightly.

"Is that so?" He tried not to squeak.

"It is." Mycroft smirked.

"He's back John, make him go away." They both chuckled slightly as they heard Sherlock whine through his door. Esmond laughed.

"You're just jealous 'cause I can walk." The boy snickered. Lestrade raised an eyebrow as they walked in to see Esmond sitting on Sherlock's bed beside his legs- just out of the older man's reach.

"Mycroft! Doesn't your spawn have school?" Sherlock sighed at the site of his brother. "And what are you doing here Lestrade, don't you have your own room."

"Sherlock." John rolled his eyes.

"Just got released." Lestrade smiled a little more at Sherlock's glare. "Thought I would let you know to be wary of the nurses, they're thinking about sedating you."

"Let them. I could finish my book." John chuckled.

"Don't leave me with him Lestrade, he's so dull. You would think a doctor would be more exciting in a hospital." Sherlock groaned.

"Sorry mate." Lestrade chuckled.

"On that note, we should be on our way." Mycroft nodded at the both of them.

"I'll see you tomorrow Da." Esmond hugged his Da before taking Anthea's hand and leaving.

"Bye Esmond." Mycroft smiled before glancing at John and Sherlock. Sherlock glared at them. "Gentlemen."

"Bye." John was watching Sherlock with a smirk but waved at them. "As a doctor I should tell you not to strain yourselves."

Lestrade blushed and looked away as he left the room . He could hear John laughing and Sherlock making incredulous noises. He stopped when Mycroft tapped the back of his leg with his cane.

"Oh sorry." Lestrade blushed more as Mycroft took his hand.

"Don't worry, we have all the time in the world." Mycroft smirked

And they did.

XXX


	8. Chapter 8

XXX

Chapter 08

XXX

The first thing Mycroft noticed when he came home was that it was eerily silent. He paused, looking around the sitting room. Esmond hadn't come home from school but the pair of shoes and jacket strewn about revealed that Lestrade had got home early. Mycroft's lips twitched into a small grin as he hung his umbrella up.

It had happened all so fast after the The Case of the London Bridge Rhyme, as John had called it- plain and straight to the point. While Mycroft had been working and waiting for Lestrade to get out of the hospital he decided that the normal thing wasn't going to work for their relationship. So he had asked Lestrade to move in with him and Esmond. His son had been very excited and happy about it. Mycroft had been worried.

But Lestrade cared about Esmond. Esmond cared about Lestrade. And that was really all Mycroft could ask for at the moment. Plus, both of them willingly put up with Sherlock, which was a bonus.

"Hey." Mycroft smiled as he walked into the kitchen to see Lestrade washing dishes. He walked over and kissed his forehead. "Home early?"

"Esmond won a bet so Sherlock and John have to take him to the cinema and help him with his science project." Lestrade placed a quick kiss on Mycroft's lips. "I finished my paperwork early and thought we could take advantage of the alone time." At that he wriggled his eyebrows.

Mycroft flushed. The first and only time they had been able to … have alone time had ended it a disaster. Lestrade had been recently released from the hospital and with Mycroft still going through physical rehabilitation … well after that night Lestrade had to get some stitches reapplied and two weeks were added to Mycroft's sessions. It had been embarrassing, especially with the reminder of their ages. Regrettably, after that both of them had gotten wrapped up in work. And even those rare moments they weren't exhausted by the end of the day, Esmond had been having nightmares, so having the bed to themselves had become a rare occurrence.

"You sure?" Mycroft eyed Lestrade's arm which was still in a brace and currently wrapped in a plastic bag as he finished the dishes.

"My stitches were removed three weeks ago." Lestrade pulled the bag off of his arm before drying his other hand off with a towel. He smirked at Mycroft. "Your physical therapist says you're doing fine." He wrapped his arms at Mycroft. "And I'm sure we can make sure you don't strain yourself."

Mycroft shivered as the other man's cool hands touched his neck and ran through his hair. He pulled the shorter man closer to him and into a kiss. He explored Lestrade's mouth, tasting tea and peanut butter. He couldn't help the small chuckle he let out. "What do you have in mind?"

"I think we have," Lestrade grabbed Mycroft's wrist and looked at his watch, "a few hours we should definitely take advantage of." He kissed him between each word and started pulling the suited man toward the bedroom.

"I sh-should take a shower." Mycroft didn't struggle as he was shoved into the bed and Lestrade crawled on top of him.

"No time." Lestrade kissed him before kissing down his jaw. Mycroft let out a groan as the other man thrust against him. He shivered as Lestrade started undoing his shirt with a grin. Mycroft raised an eyebrow, blushing, as his tie was thrown across the room. He hissed as Lestrade bit his neck before sucking on it. He realized he wasn't doing anything with his hands and he should really fix that. He waited a moment before deciding that he should really turn the tables, after all Lestrade had only been out of a hospital for barely over a month. He grabbed Lestrade's hips before rolling them both over so Lestrade was on his back and Mycroft was over him.

"What if I want to take my time?" Mycroft teased, with an attempt at a serious expression. Lestrade chuckled breathlessly. Mycroft took this as permission and kissed Lestrade's forehead before moving to his nose, then his cheeks, and his chin …

"Kiss me you prat." Lestrade groaned with his eyes closed. Mycroft smiled, kissing his eyelids gently. He gently grazed his lips over the other man's but didn't give in and instead moved down his jaw and set his hands to start unbuttoning the Detective Inspector's shirt. Lestrade huffed keeping his eyes closed but groaned when Mycroft bit his neck. The taller man smiled, opening up his shirt and kissing down his chest slowly.

"Mycroft." Lestrade moaned, looking down at him through half-lidded eyes. He lifted his hands up and ran them through Mycroft's hair, causing him to shiver.

Mycroft kissed his chest before moving to a nipple and gently kissing it, earning a sharp intake of breath. He slowly stored and categorized every sound and shiver that he earned from Lestrade, making sure to put it in the priority section of his organized mind. He kissed the other nipple before he continued kissing any uncovered piece of skin that he could reach. Lestrade let out a small noise as Mycroft reached his belly button- he raised an eyebrow.

"Shut up." Lestrade was blushing a beautiful color now. Mycroft slid his hands up and down the other man's sides before he began to unbuckle his belt. Lestrade squirmed raising his hips and helping Mycroft pull his trousers off but the taller man made sure to pull down his boxers as well. He groaned as Mycroft went back to kissing his belly button and then around his stomach. He moved lower and started kissing down the man's legs. Lestrade let out a frustrated noise as the other man avoided the area that was started to want some attention. "Mycroft."

"Patience is a virtue Inspector." Mycroft chuckled, kissing the man's knees. He winced as his shoulder decided to protest his current position. Then he was being pushed up by Lestrade as he sat up.

"Okay?" Lestrade slid his good hand under Mycroft's shirt to gently touch the scarred area from the bullet wound.

"Yeah." Mycroft let out a frustrated sigh before kissing the man in front of him. Lestrade licked his lips before pulling back. He smiled as Lestrade started pulling his shirt off before helping the other man with his. And then Lestrade was pulling him forward.

"I don't think I could take much more of that anyway." Lestrade smiled, pushing Mycroft on his back and kissing the man again. He straddled the taller man's hips, moving against him and kissing down his jaw. Mycroft thrust up against him as they ground together. Lestrade smirked sitting up and unbuckling the other man's belt. "Look under the pillow."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow before moving his hands and sliding them under the pillows. He paused, pulling out a paper sack before raising his hips and allowing Lestrade to pull his trousers and boxers off him, leaving them both naked. Lestrade moved up, kissing the scar on Mycroft's shoulder before grabbing the bag and dumping on the bed with a grin. There was a pack of condoms and a bottle of lube.

"When did-" Mycroft was interrupted by a thorough kiss. He leaned back groaning as Lestrade explored his mouth. He placed one hand on the back of Lestrade's neck and another on his hip as they moved against each other.

"Two weeks ago." Lestrade panted kissing him again. This time Mycroft took dominance in the kiss biting at the other man's lips before sucking on them. "Been working on getting a moment alone ever since."

Mycroft chuckled against his lips breathlessly. "The bet?"

"Just worked out in my favor. Your son is wonderful." Lestrade kissed Mycroft's forehead before leaning over and grabbing a condom. "And I plan on taking advantage of this time with you thoroughly."

"Who knows when we'll get the chance again?" Mycroft bit his lip as he watched Lestrade scoot down a little. His breath hitched when the other man grabbed his erection and gently put the condom over it. "Gregory, I think-"

"I want you Mycroft." Lestrade growled huskily. "I want to feel you inside of me and, plus, this way you don't have to strain your shoulder" He winked with a smirk.

Mycroft knew his face had to be bright red.

"And if you're up for it after this … we can switch." Lestrade leaned forward and whispered in his ear causing Mycroft to shiver.

"Need I remind you that you are indeed three years my senior … old man." Mycroft felt slightly giddy enough to tease the other man. Lestrade let out a bark of a laugh.

"Watch it." Lestrade squeezed Mycroft's erection, earning a gasp before reaching over and grabbing the lube. "I might just leave you here to fend for yourself."

"As if you could." Mycroft sat up and pulled Lestrade forward so their chests were touching. Both of them shaking with anticipation. He gently pulled the lube out of Lestrade's hands and poured some on his fingers.

"Hn." Lestrade leaned forward kissing Mycroft's jawline. His breath hitched as Mycroft wrapped one arm around his back and the other hand slid to start preparing him. Lestrade placed his forehead against Mycroft's neck as a finger gently and slowly slid inside of him. His arms were shaking as he held onto the other man. Mycroft kissed his shoulder, sliding another finger in, taking his time and moving his fingers to stretch him.

When a third finger was pressing into his entrance Lestrade bit his lip and squirmed. He moved back against the fingers. "I'm ready Myc …"

"Greg." Mycroft kissed him removing his fingers. Lestrade quickly maneuvered his legs and waited for Mycroft to lube up himself before he positioned himself and slowly lowered himself. He kept his eyes on Mycroft's as the other man watched him. Both of them flushed, shaking with need. Mycroft groaned as he was buried into the warm tightness of Lestrade.

He tried not to move as Greg held onto him tightly. It wasn't until the silver haired man pulled him into a rough kiss and started rocking his hips that Mycroft dared to move. His first thrust and both of them let out moans as they worked out a pace. Mycroft kissed the man again biting at his lips and enjoying all the noises that came from his lover. It was beautiful, this was ecstasy. Mycroft growled, thrusting his hips up and earning a whine from Lestrade. He couldn't take it, he needed more, more friction, more Lestrade, more anything. He shifted, moving the two of them, he had to pull out and Lestrade made a surprised noise as he was suddenly on his back but Mycroft kissed him before he could ask anything and was already pushing back in- earning a sound of approval from the other man.

Mycroft thrust quickly and hard, moving one hand to take a hold of Greg's erection and started stroking him. Lestrade crawled at his back with a noise Mycroft could only describe as mewling. He bit and marked the other man's neck.

Mycroft kissed him again- he wasn't going to last long. He sped up the pace of his hand on his lover. Lestrade wrapped his legs around Mycroft's waist as he came with a yell. It didn't take Mycroft long to reach his peak, burying his face in Greg's shoulder. He quickly pulled out before collapsing beside the shorter man. His shoulder didn't wait for the post coital bliss to stop before it made its anger known. Lestrade made a soft noise before placing kisses down his shoulder and face. Mycroft moved to meet kiss with a satisfied sigh.

"I was trying to make it so you didn't strain your shoulder." Lestrade smirked kissing him again and wrapping an arm around him.

Mycroft smiled, "Well you still have a chance to make it up to me." He kissed him again. "How much time do we have?"

"Enough." Lestrade growled waggling his eyebrows before snuggling closer. "But ... Uh give me a moment."

"Old man." Mycroft let out a small laugh. Lestrade rolled his eyes slapping Mycroft's bottom earning a surprised noise. They both laughed but froze as they heard the door to the apartment slam open.

"Sherlock!" It was John.

"I am not doing this John! I cannot put up with this brat anymore!"

Mycroft quickly grabbed his duvet and pulled it over the both of them. Lestrade gave him a frantic look.

"You should have told me that you didn't know anything about the Solar System." Esmond sighed.

"Esmond I don't think you should go in there."

"Da!" Mycroft looked over the duvet to see Esmond come into the room. The younger boy paused giving him a confused look. "Why are you in bed?"

John was suddenly at the door pulling Esmond back into the sitting room. He didn't even look over at the bed. "Esmond, why don't you go get those Solar System books you wanted to show Sherlock. Let's leave your Da and Lestrade alone."

"Ah." Sherlock's epiphany could be heard from the bedroom.

Lestrade buried his face into Mycroft's shoulder, letting out a frustrated noise.

"Is Mr. Greg in there? I didn't see him? Was he hiding under the blanket with Da?" Esmond was asking John, who was spluttering as they walked to Esmond's room.

"I think we'll have to postpone." Mycroft pulled the duvet over the both of them and wrapped his arms around Lestrade.

"Can I kill your brother? Please?" Lestrade groaned.

"I believe I laid claim to that before you met him." Mycroft kissed the other man's forehead. "But I might let you help."

"I love you." Lestrade smiled up at Mycroft and he couldn't help but smile right back, his heart beating a little faster.

"I love you too."

XXX

The End! Hope everyone enjoyed!


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